Starstruck [CLOSED APPLY FIC]

(9)

"They're back!" Ronnie called, gesturing for Locksley to hurry and come see.

"Okay, okay, one minute," he grumbled irritably. He'd been at the front making sure everything was fine for most of the journey and he didn't remember the last time he'd slept. Maker, this was exhausting.

"Hi," Val smiled as Bryony ran forward and hugged Locksley, awkwardly hanging back. 

"Are you okay? We didn't pick up any response on the comms, so I guess that means it went well?" Locksley asked through Bryony's hair. 

"Um," she swallowed. "Not exactly."

"Welcome back," Errick leant against the doorframe. "Take a breather, get some water, then we can discuss what you mean by 'not exactly'."

Val nodded, not trusting herself to speak yet. 

"I'm going to go and sit this one down," Locksley gestured to Bryony who still hadn't removed her arms from around his neck. "Will you, uh, be okay?"

"Mhm, yes, I'll be fine." Unlike those innocent people. "Errick? Can I— Can I talk to you?"

He looked up at Val, half surprised. "Of course." 

He led her out of the cramped corridor and into the room that held the girls' bunks. Errick closed the door and stood against it, waiting for her to speak. 

"We're way out our depth here," she whispered. "We shouldn't be doing this. We shouldn't have gone to the dwarf planet, because now I can't unsee—" Val broke off with a sob, and Errick hesitated before opening his arms to her. 

She melted into them, breathing shakily. 

"Can you tell me what you saw?" He asked softly, once her heartbeat had steadied. 

"Bodies. A lot of half-decomposed, c—crunchy bodies." Val pulled back, watching Errick sharply inhale and exhale again. "Right in the centre of it all was the Aurora Legion flag."

He opened his mouth and closed it again in uncharacteristic uncertainty.  "I—I'm sorry you had to see that." 

Val frowned. Something had shifted in his face, as if he'd just come to a realisation. "What is it?"

He shook his head, brushing her comment away. "You're right. We're way out of our depth. Fiddlesticks. Fiddlesticks."

"We can't join the rebels, but we can't go back to the Legion," she processed. "We're stuck in a stalemate."

Errick ran a hand through his hair, not meeting her eyes. "Do you... trust Mathilde?"

"No," Val said firmly. "Do you?"

"Mm," he murmured. "The way she holds herself, the calculated look in her eyes when she thinks no-one is watching... She reminds me of someone."

"Oh." She wasn't sure if he'd meant to say that last part out loud.

"Maybe my mind is messing with me, but I don't like this game she's playing with us. It's like she's scoping us out in order to set up her trap."

"Thank Trask it's not just me! What happened on the dwarf planet..." Val shuddered. "I won't forget it for a long time, but the Legion couldn't just cover up something like that. There would have had to have been records."

If Errick was shocked at how quickly she'd slid under her diplomatic mask, he didn't show it. "I agree, but I'm worried about digging ourselves into a deeper hole."

"Into a... deeper hole?" Val repeated slowly. "Like... gardening?"

"Sorry, it's a phrase on Terra. It means getting yourself further into a difficult situation. Kind of like the metaphor 'digging your own grave'. You're making things worse for yourself with your own words and actions, and causing your own downfall."