Khadra

Kaihi

“Callsign Arkar, this is the Khadra. You are cleared to land on the flight deck at your own discretion.”

No welcome.

Strange.

But I think nothing of it as I line up with the runway.

The weather’s perfect. Sun low, but not in my eyes.

We’re slightly ahead of schedule - not that it matters.

Fiya guides me in.

Landing a tailwheel aircraft on a carrier is significantly harder than a tricycle configuration, but I take it slow. Follow her instructions. Keep it steady.

The touchdown is smooth. The tailhook catches the second wire.

The harness straps dig into my chest as Mazel jerks to a halt.

I cut the engine. The canopy slides open.

No deck crew rushing in. No sailors crowding the platform.

Just the propellers winding down, their blur fading.

I unstrap and climb out, helping Zyla with her box - still permanently jacked into her arm.

She smiles as she steps onto the wing.

We hop down the trailing edge of the right wing just as a tug hooks up to Mazel to take her below for recharging.

The Captain of the Khadra approaches, his face unreadable.

“Kaihi Lahav and Eliza Doman. Welcome to the Khadra. We trust you will enjoy your stay and be ready to depart at dawn tomorrow for the Hiroto. Good day.”

He pivots and walks away without another word.

I glance at Zyla. She meets my eyes.

I shrug.

She giggles.

“I guess it’s nice to not be swarmed for once.”

I smile.

“Yeah. I’m kind of enjoying not being dragged to a celebratory feast that’s just alcohol and bad toasts.”

We hold each other’s gaze for a second too long. Then I turn forward.

“Let’s head down to the medical ward. I’m sure they’re waiting for you.”

She nods.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

A few hours later, we’re back on the flight deck, leaning against the railing, watching the sun sink into the sea.

It’s become a tradition.

The carrier’s still active - aircraft scream in behind us from time to time, catching the wires with a harsh metallic snap. But we don’t react anymore. We just talk. Not about anything important. Random stuff.

Zyla giggles.

“Okay, how about this: If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?”

I think for a second. Just one.

“Only one thing? Then probably my skepticism. It’s held me back from doing a lot of things I would’ve actually enjoyed.”

She nods like she already knew the answer. I smile.

“My turn. If you had a superpower, what would it be?”

She grins.

“Flight. Too easy.”

I laugh. I should’ve known.

Of course it would be flight.

Another fighter slams into the deck behind us, hook catching the wire. The noise drowns us out completely.

We don’t speak.

Just hold each other’s eyes like we’re trying to pass thoughts between us. Like maybe, if we concentrate hard enough, we won’t need words anymore.

Half a minute later, the deck is clear again.

The air is cool but not cold. The light is gold. Her box hums beside her.

Trying to keep her alive.

Trying.

The doctors weren’t optimistic.

Her life expectancy has dropped again.

From months to weeks.

Two weeks. Maybe less.

They think the flights are making it worse - but they can’t prove it. And even if they could, we don’t have a choice.

There are only two flights left: tomorrow’s, and the one after that.

Then we reach Aymar.

We’re over halfway.

But the second half is worse.

I found out today that the Axis have started using a new type of missile. “Predictives,” they’re calling them.

These ones don’t just lock onto your radar trace.

They think.

They use computers to figure out where you’re going to be and go there instead - cutting you off, perfectly timed.

They’re hell to dodge. And they’ll be thickest near the border.

So we stand here.

Side by side.

Pretending the sunset is just a sunset. Pretending we don’t feel like we’re already ghosts.

Zyla looks away first, turning her eyes to the horizon. I follow.

Then I ask, quietly:

“Before you got sick… what did you want to grow up to be?”

She’s silent for a minute, like she’s trying to remember someone else’s dream.

“I think I wanted to be an illustrator.” She smiles softly. “But I was twelve. I had no idea what that meant, and I definitely didn’t have the skills.”

Then, with more certainty:

“If you asked me now, I’d say I want to fly. I don’t care how. I just want to be in the air. You’ve got me hooked.”

I grin.

“Sorry. I’ll try to be more depressing in the future.”

She chuckles, the sound light but fragile.

Another fighter lands behind us. We wait for the noise to fade.

Her red hair catches the last of the sun, glowing like fire. Then her voice, soft and anxious:

“Hey… if we make it through this… will you listen to my dream?”

I glance at her.

“You came up with one?”

She shakes her head.

“Kind of. Not really. I… stole it.”

“Stole it?”

She nods.

“Yeah. I stole yours. Sorry.”

I shake my head.

“That’s okay, but… don’t you have your own? There’s so much out there.”

Her head tilts, her voice suddenly distant.

“No. I’m sure of it. I thought about it all last night. And now with… you know. Everything. It all seems so far away. Like a postcard someone else got to send.”

She turns toward me. Her eyes shimmer with tears she won’t let fall.

“I want to go with you. I want to stay with you. I want to fly with you. Forever.”

My heart skips - no, it stumbles. But she keeps going.

“I’ve been alone most of my life. The kids at school wouldn’t play with me. Said I looked strange. Because I wasn’t born there. Because I didn’t belong.”

She swallows. Her voice shakes.

“But then you showed up. And you didn’t care. You didn’t ask questions. You didn’t look at me like I was broken. You just… stayed.”

My pulse hammers like an engine starting up.

She turns to the sea again, the words slipping past her lips like confessions she’s never dared speak.

“You’re the only person who’s ever done that. Aside from my father. But he doesn’t count - he’s meant to love me.”

I try to breathe.

She keeps going.

“I don’t know, Kaihi. I’m lost. I’m scared. But you’re always there. Even if we’ve only known each other for a few days.”

She turns back to me, eyes wide and glassy, cheeks flushed.

But she’s brave.

“Kaihi… I want to…”

She hesitates. Then takes an unexpected leap.

“I want to marry you.”

What?

Marry me?

Does she even realise what that means? We're not even dating yet.

“Zyla…”

She cuts me off. Her gaze flicks from place to place, restless and exposed.

“I know it’s upfront. I know it’s too soon. I know we haven’t… done much together. But I want to stay with you. Forever. I want to be part of your dream. I want…”

She swallows. Her voice trembles.

“I want to help you raise that family. In that isolated house. With an airstrip. Nothing would make me happier.”

Her eyes find mine again, shimmering. She’s trying to hold herself together, but she’s breaking.

“So please… once all this is over… will you marry me?”

My mind’s a warzone - rationality trying to shout over the pounding of my heart. Everything's too loud and too fast. There are no neat lines of logic to follow. So instead, I listen to the only thing that hasn’t failed me yet:

My heart.

“Zyla… I… I would love to spend the rest of my life with you.”

I take her hand - cold, soft, trembling.

“You’re everything I could dream of. And yes… there’s still so much I don’t know. But yes. Yes, I will.”

Her eyes light up, wide and shining like the sky caught fire inside them. Her fingers tighten around mine.

“I suppose it’s a bit late now, but…”

She leans in, her voice barely audible.

“I love you.”

My heart tries to leap out of my chest.

I haven’t heard those words in so long. Not like this. Not from someone who means them.

She steps closer. I do too. Time thins around us.

I notice things I hadn’t before - the soft curl of her eyelashes, the way faint freckles trace her cheeks like constellations, the gentle shape of her lips. I feel her breath. Warm. Light.

My eyelids drift shut.

Breathe.

Once.

Twice.

In. Out. Steady.

Our lips meet.

The world dissolves.

The carrier, the wind, the screaming engines behind us - all of it melts into stillness.

Only the sun remains, slipping beneath the horizon.

Only the soft thrum of steel beneath our feet.

Only her.

Her kiss is warm. Soft. Honest. I can feel the trembling beneath it - the fear, the hope, the need not to be alone. I kiss her back, with everything I have.

And for once the world doesn't feel like it’s built out of broken dreams.