The silence on my side of the blast door was absolute. The shuddering vibration of a half-dozen Imperial drop-ships lifting off was a distant tremor, a problem for the sky and the cracked earth of Xylos, but not for me. Inside Bay 7, the only sounds were the low hum of the power converters and the soft scuff of Zane’s boots on the grated floor.
He stood a few feet away, his expression unreadable. The shallow plasma burn on his shoulder was already blistering, a raw, red mark against his tan skin. He hadn’t said a word about it.
“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that seemed to settle the dust Kael’s fury had kicked up.
I looked from the sealed door to him, and then down at my own hands. They were steady. Not a tremor. The storm had passed, and I was still standing. I fe
