Day after day had gone by with nothing out of the ordinary. We all went through the motions of day-to-day life, adjusting to the occasional hick-up, but overall, everything was fairly peaceful. It almost seemed wrong. Soon, days turned to weeks. The only thing that had been different was that Telenoch had temporarily left the colony with his guards to speak to one of his contacts about the Loyalists.

Three days ago, only hours after the official one-month and halfway mark of his stay, Telenoch had called for a meeting with all of us elders. At first, we were hesitant to let him go, worried that letting him go could strain relations with the royals if they found out he left; or worse, he got hurt after leaving. In the end, I was outvoted five-to-three in favor of letting him leave. Now, it was just a matter of waiting.

I'm now sitting in the den of my cabin, overlooking virtual records of the infirmary inventory. When I woke up with a massive headache, Rose refused to let me come into work and told me to rest. I then hid in my room with a blanket over my head to avoid light irritation until I fell asleep. After that, the headache was gone but Rose had been clear in her demand. Luckily, I was able to compromise with her and get the inventory records sent to my Link so I could feel like I was helping.

I've now been looking at the records for two hours and everything is starting to bleed into the information next to it. I rub at my eyes, hoping to refocus, but nothing makes sense when I look back at the holographic screen. With a sigh, I wave the display away and set my Link aside; it's time to work on something else.

As I stand up to move to my room, there's a soft knock on the door, so soft that I almost missed it. Glad for the distraction, I open the door to see Rylan. He stands with a hand rubbing at the back of his neck, looking away, as if he was contemplating making a run for it.

"Rylan?" I speak softly, careful not to spook him. When he looks back to me, he turns pale. "Can I do something for you?"

"I..." He takes a deep breath and looks behind me, unable to meet my eyes. "I was hoping I could speak to you."

"Sure," I open the door wider and motion for him to come in. "Come in."

He steps inside and looks around the place, having never been to my cabin before. I watch his eyes move about the place, pretending to take in every detail despite every cabin being identical. When I've seen enough of his nervous gazing, I walk to the couch and move all of the work documents. "Here, have a seat."

We now sit on opposite sides of the couch, staring awkwardly at the other with a lone seat cushion keeping us apart. Neither of us speak, he seems too on edge, and I simply wait for him to explain why he came.

Far too much time has passed with silence between us, so eventually, I sigh and voice a question. "Rylan, what is this about?"

His shoulders sag even farther and his expression crumbles into a frown. "I'm transferring."

After the initial shock of him finally admitting his transfer, I chuckle and sit back, folding my feet under me. "Is that all that this," I wave my hands between us. "Is about?"

His brow furrows and he opens his mouth repeatedly, unable to think of what he wants to say. "But—"

"Rylan," I set a hand on his knee to stop his blubbering. "I've known for weeks now."

"Wh—at do you mean?" He hick-ups slightly over the word 'what', turning a slight shade of green.

"Rylan, Jaxon and I have been working on coming up with a regimen for people who want to enlist in the guard during the next recruitment period, that way they are more likely to pass the physical. When Jaxon first brought up the idea, he showed me a list of people who had reached out to him to transfer; your name was on that list." I move to sit closer to him, his pale color worrying me that he'll pass out any second.

"You've known that long?" When I nod, he moves a hand through his hair and breathes deeply. "Why didn't you confront me about it?"

My response is automatic. "I wanted you to tell me when you were ready."

"What do you mean?"

"I knew that you would come to tell me, but only when you were comfortable with telling me. As much as I wish you wanted to stay and become the amazing surgeon I know you could be, I want you to do something that you want to do."

His head drops back onto the top of the couch with a shaky sigh of relief. A hand moves to cover his eyes as he catches his breath, seeming to have hardly breathed throughout the conversation so far. When he looks back to me, his eyes are wet with tears. "So, you're not mad?"

Against my every will, my eyes start to water, and I laugh. "God, no!" I hug him tightly and laugh. "I can't be mad at you for choosing something better for you."

I blink the tears away and release him from my grasp. "I understand that what we want changes. You might have wanted to work in the infirmary before, but there's a lot about it that people don't realize and the stress can get to you. If moving to the guard is best for you, then I support it."

He chuckles, relief clearly written on his face. Sitting back with my feet under me again, I change the subject by bringing up a story about Astrid's troubles learning Celx. The shared amusement lightens the mood and we spend the rest of the afternoon sharing stories, most involving our time in the infirmary.

Astrid flings herself onto the couch, face down, muttering in Galactic Common and then again in Celx. After a moment of senseless noise, she screams into the couch cushions, making me drop the knife that was in my hand, the sharp utensil only narrowly missing my foot.

"Damn it, Astrid, if I lose any toes, it's on you." I hiss in a low tone as I bend to grab the knife and toss it into the sink.

"What?!" She yells into the couch, her voice muffled by the dark material.

"You know, our butts go there."

She screeches and sits upright, rubbing at her face like she can brush away the grossness. "You're right, ew." Astrid whines and runs to her room, her look of utter disgust making me smile.

After rinsing off the blade, I resume in cutting the vegetables in front of me. It's a simple moment, one to relish in. Standing in the kitchen, making dinner while listening to Astrid's disgusted shrieking from the back of the cabin. It's not the most mundane of situations, but it's become a new type of normal. Whoever got home first would make dinner while the other recapped the day once they got back, or in this case, made angry noises to vent the stress she was under.

I pull the pot of boiling pasta off the burner and move it to the sink to drain. As I start pouring out the water, there's a knock on the door, finally, our frequent visitors have arrived.

"It's open!" I call out, looking towards the door.

Elena and Lorna walk in, shutting the door behind them. They each carry a dish and set them down on the counter. We girls had decided to have dinner and a fun night at home together in an effort to distract ourselves from the stress of waiting for Telenoch to come back with new of the Loyalists.

"Are they here?" Astrid walks back into the room, having changed into a pair of sweats and a baggy tee, the tee having been stolen from Will.

"You've got to be kidding." Lorna rolls her eyes at Astrid and crosses her arms.

"What?" I watch as she shrinks in on herself at Lorna's comment, the girl acting overly emotional over a single comment.

"You're wearing your boyfriend's shirt to girl's night." Even Elena, who's been sleeping with Jax almost since arriving at the colony, sounds disappointed in Astrid's choice in attire.

"It's comfortable..."

"Leave her alone, she's a sentimental bean." The girls and I laugh, all except Astrid. She looks at me with a sharp glare at my use something her mother would call her. "Lighten up, A. Besides, they have a point, there's a reason it's only us girls."

"Because we are strong women who don't need no men!" Elena throws her hands into the air and laughs before she quickly looks at Lorna and smiles. "Or other women."

We all cheer and thus began a night of simplicity. We had a meal made of a mix of our favorite things that we had on our home planets. Of course, it was only the closest we could get to our home planet's food as we don't have the same resources here on C3-G12, but we made do, and it was interesting.

From there, we all moved to the living room, asking each other question after question, learning more about the others. It ranged anywhere from our favorite memories to the stupidest things that we've ever done; it was usually Elena asking the harder and more interesting questions.

It's well into the night, about oh-one-hundred when everyone had fallen asleep...everyone but me. We each grabbed a pillow and a blanket from either Astrid's or my room and settled on the ground in Astrid's room as children do. It reminded me of sleepovers with Shawn and the Dawson boys, and those memories were plastered to the backs of my eyelids each time they closed.

My heart ached, tormented by my recently thawed emotions every time I shut my eyes and saw one of the boys' smiling faces. It was easier back on Aoria; despite seeing Micah, I was able to remain distant and emotionless. On Aoria, I was an outsider, an oddity, so remaining indifferent to everything around me was possible. In the time since moving, the people around me have chipped away at the ice that surrounded my heart and I couldn't keep up with their destruction. Now, I was a leader, a doctor, I couldn't afford to shut my heart away again; I would remain vulnerable for the betterment of my people.

I roll my eyes and bury my face into my pillow, disgusted with my change in personality. I liked being alone, I liked not being depended on. It's been difficult trying to adjust and become a leader and a mentor; it was almost suffocating.

As much as I wished for my shielded heart back, I understood the benefits of feeling. I needed to be actively empathetic for my patients, logical while somewhat sentimental with choices for the future of the colony, and most of all, able to understand anyone who comes to me with a problem. It was all—

I sit up, suddenly alert at the sound of footsteps. My heart starts to beat faster as adrenaline enters my bloodstream. I look around the room, sure that one of the girls had gotten up during my distracting mental debate, but all three of them were still heavily asleep. Fear momentarily strikes at my heart until it lights fire and burns into a wave of dull anger. Who thought they had the balls to break into my house?

As silently as possible, I get up and move to the hallway. I walk with my back against the wall until I get to the entry of the den and kitchen. There's a tall, dark figure walking around the den, looking around the furniture for something. Holding my breath, I sneak into the kitchen, glad for the cover of shadows, and grab a knife that sits in the sink from earlier that night, knowing that pulling one from the block could make too much noise.

The figure turns and I duck behind the counter, chancing a small glance around the side of it. The intruder appears to be done with the den, having not found what it they were looking for, and starts in the direction of the hallway. A few steps more and it would be my best opportunity to catch them at the disadvantage.

Seeing my opening, I leap behind the figure and hold my left hand over their mouth while pressing a large kitchen knife against their shoulder. I struggle to maintain my hold on the larger person, but when I press the tip of the blade into their skin, they freeze. "Now, while I'm sure this doesn't seem very intimidating because people usually go for the neck, I assure you, this won't be pretty."

I steer the figure in the direction of the nearest wall and continue speaking. "This blade is positioned directly over you subclavian artery, one hard jab," I jerk the blade a little and the person jumps as blood begins to form around the tip of the knife. "You'll bleed out. Of course, because it's a smaller artery in comparison to a few others, you'll bleed out somewhat slowly depending on how bad the sever is. Oh, and do you want to know something else about this particular artery? It's sandwiched between the clavicle and the first rib so compressing it to slow the bleeding is impossible without surgery. In other words, if you piss me off, you won't be seeing the sunrise."

The figure clears their throat and holds their arms up. "Now, Miss Serina, I don't believe that will be necessary." My mind reels at the sound of Major Cavanaugh's voice.

I quickly release him from my hold and his left arm moves to hold his bleeding shoulder. "What the hell are you doing here and why did you simply walk in, Cavanaugh?"

"I apologize, but I knocked, and nobody answered. Usually, I would find Lieutenant M—"

"Cavanaugh, get to the point."

"Right, yes." He clears his throat and the other girls surround us, having woken up from the commotion. "The ambassador and his guards have returned; he wishes to speak with you all, right away."