Page 49 of Storm to Victory
She swallowed, dropping her gaze away from his to stare instead at the star-filled windows.
For the past few months, it had been hard to envision the future when the war seemed to be all there was. All consuming. Never ending.
But now they were very likely staring at the end, if Fieran’s dacha and uncle had anything to say about it. And if the stories were to be believed, ending wars was their specialty.
She could go anywhere. Do anything.
She could return home. To the peace and quiet of her childhood home at the far western rail terminal. She could go back to fixing trains and…and…
Fieran would hate it out there. He’d go insane with boredom within a month or two.
And, truthfully, so would she. She’d outgrown her life there and, despite how the thought filled her chest with a hollowed out sense of mourning, she wasn’t going to go back, except to visit her parents.
Would she have left all those months ago if she’d known that she would never return to live there again? Yet she wouldn’t trade the life she had now to go back. She wouldn’t want to miss out on falling in love with Fieran. Or on making all the new friends she had in the squadron.
Yes, she’d lost a piece of herself. But she’d gained far more than she’d lost.
“I don’t want to go back to the western rail terminal. Not to stay, anyway. I’d like to visit, of course.” Pip drew in a deep breath and forced herself to meet his gaze. “I’d like to stay with the squadron for as long as there is a Half-Breed Squadron. They won’t disband or reassign anyone right away, not until everyone is sure whatever peace treaty ends the war is going to last.”
Fieran’s smile was wide, gleaming in the depth of his eyes. “I’d like that.”
“I know.” Pip wrapped her arms lightly around his waist. “You belong with the squadron. And I’m content where I’m at. But eventually…”
“Eventually the humans will retire. Or the Alliance will downsize the Flying Corps. Or they’ll promote me to the point I’m stuck behind a desk…” Fieran took one of his hands off the wheel to rest lightly on the small of her back.
“And when that happens, I’d like to finally take a position at the AMPC. It’s where I was always meant to be, I think, even if I hadn’t had the courage to take that step before now.” Pip swayed closer to him. It was far too tempting to rest her head against his chest. “I really liked working there while you were recovering in Aldon. It felt like home.”
“I’m glad.” Fieran’s grip on her tightened, as if he wanted to tug her fully into an embrace. “And you know whatever job you get at the AMPC someday will be entirely because of you and your talents. Nothing at all to do with me.”
“I know.” Pip felt the confidence of that all the way to her bones. She’d earned a place there if she wanted it.
“The moment you’re discharged from the army, Uncle Lance will be waiting with a pen and a hiring contract.” Fieran’s light laugh reverberated in his chest.
“If he can remember the day.” Pip grinned, remembering how absentminded the inventor would get.
“You know him well.” Fieran’s laugh deepened. “In that case, Louise would be there to make sure you were hired.”
“Yes, she would.” Pip would love having Louise for a sister someday.
Fieran’s breath washed against her as he pressed a light kiss to her hair. “There’s a good chance you might be able to stay with the squadron and work at the AMPC. The army will remain stationed at the border for a while. But probably sooner than you think, they’ll go back to peacetime status. There’s a good chance I’d end up stationed in Aldon or even downgraded to reserve status where I would be free to travel between Estyra and Aldon as needed.”
“That sounds really nice.” Pip gave in and leaned against Fieran.
If she closed her eyes, she could picture it. Fieran still flying with the squadron. Her working with the AMPC during the week and hanging out with the flyboys in the evenings once everyone was off duty.
It was a future so tangible she could taste it, sweet as the donuts Tiny’s girlfriend made.
They just needed to end the war to actually make it happen.
Chapter
Fifteen
On their fourth morning, Fieran blinked awake at the sunlight splashing into his cabin through the porthole.
The past three days had been nearly blissful. Lazily drifting over the Mongavarian countryside, occasionally changing direction to avoid Mongavarian patrols, aerodromes, and army bases. Each evening, he and Pip would stay up late talking through his watch and dreaming about what a future together after the war might look like until Uncle Edmund arrived to take up his watch and the two of them drifted to their bunks to get some sleep. Each day, Pip spent a lot of time tinkering on the engines and the other mechanical parts of the ship, often with Dacha, and each day she and Dacha grew less stilted with each other. More than once, he’d caught them having an actual conversation as they talked over a mechanical problem they were trying to solve.
Fieran washed, dressed, and made his way down the passageway, stepping onto the bridge.
