The day of the mission is approaching. It's not yet, not for another two weeks, but we're all preparing.
So far, it seems that some of us will be part of the active team - we'll be going to steal the ship during a shift change in guards. Almost no humans or slaves are allowed in that area anymore, so they shouldn't have reason to keep their guard up.
The ship in question can travel by land and also leave the planet, so the plan is to procure the ship with a minimal team, and then fly back to the base, load up everyone as quickly as possible, and fly away before our captors have the ability to respond.
...Those are not the details of the plan.
That is...the skeleton of the plan.
And I haven't even officially been told that much.
I just overheard Ivan discussing it with his top brass. The details of who will be on what team haven't been finalized, as far as I know, and I don't know anything detailed about how each step will be accomplished.
Maybe that's for the best.
If...something horrible happens. If I were abducted and interrogated...it's probably better I don't know more of the plan than I need to, right?
The same for all of us.
We can't afford to let this plan go wrong. This is a plan build on desperation, surprise, and unpredictability. I can't imagine we'll get any kind of second chance at this.
Hestia walks over to me, with a little bounce in her step.
The girls of the base have basically been using Hestia as a canvas, competing to make her as pretty as possible. She has different braids, her nails are done in some kind of stain they must have made, she has a flower crown, she's got handmade makeup, she has a flowery sundress someone stitched together from I-don't-know-what, the list goes on and on.
But most of all, she's been getting attention and friendship from everyone.
I'd be worried that it might be overwhelming her.
But her sparkling eyes and bright smile tell another story. I think she's happier than I've seen her since...ever.
She grabs my arm and bounces a few times, pointing at her hair, making a rather obvious 'look!' gesture. Her eyes are sparkling.
"Oooh, that looks really pretty, Hestia."
She beams.
It looks like they've taken strands of her hair and braided it around flowers. The result is that there are small flowers dotting the top of her hair, where her hair was parted and braided in two small strands, and the flowers have spread down those strands to their tips. I can't say for sure, but it's likely there's multiple layered flowers, rather than some kind of long multi-flowered stem.
It's really pretty, at any rate. Besides the little braids with flowers, someone it seems has gone through the trouble of curling it through some kind of heat. It's not the most dramatic curls I've ever seen, but it's pleasantly wavy. It frames her face in a very nice way.
We're not exactly feasting here, even if we're still probably eating more than before. But she hasn't put on much weight, that much is for sure. Regardless, she doesn't have the same, fragile look to her. She's still shy, but the shyness isn't mixed with the haunted expression that she used to wear back at the compound. Her eyes aren't dull, and she's not walking like every step could be her last. Instead, there's a bounce in her step, and a smile on her lips, and her eyes are sparkling.
I'm glad to see it. I hope that this happiness continues once we're finally off this world. I hope that once she's back home, her home, that she'll continue to have the chance to grow into a stronger and more confident person.
And...well.
I hope I get to see that.
But the chances are we...probably won't meet up again.
I know that.
But I still hope she'll be happy.
And maybe a selfish part of me hopes she doesn't entirely forget me, even though it's objectively a good thing that she has more than just me to cling to.
She squeezes my hand and smiles, bright and sunny, and I squeeze her hand back and offer her a smile in return.
"I think that's definitely a winning hairstyle, Hestia. The other girls have really outdone themselves this time, huh?"
Her smile is beaming.
She leans her head on my shoulder and closes her eyes, still smiling.
I spend a little less time with her now than before. It's not because I'm avoiding her, simply that now Hestia is busy and gets swept up with other people now. Like the girls who keep doting on her and making her look prettier.
But when we do meet, Hestia is still Hestia.
She leans her head on me, she grabs my hand, she snuggles against my shoulder, she clings to my arm and makes happy noises, she beams at me and her eyes sparkle when we're together.
She still loves to have her hair played with, and she loves the headpats I give her. When we sit and chat with other people she always stays close, and she's started to become more vocal, more animated, as time goes on. She has no words still, no real voice to her, but the sounds she makes have changed.
They aren't whines, or fearful, or anything. Instead they're happy little noises. Squeezed noises, like her throat isn't quite up to making them but they come out all the same.
I don't know if she's entirely incapable of speech because of some physical limitation, some kind of choice, or anything else. But she's definitely more inclined to make sounds and inject into conversations her feelings, rather than silently stare.
I think it's good.
Even a short time in a better place like this, where she can be happier, and she's already getting better.
Who knows what she might be like in a few years back on Earth.
Maybe I'll hear her on TV selling a book she wrote about her time here one day.
That's the hope.
And I don't intend to give that hope up just yet.