"I'll do it. I'll sneak onto Zarkon's ship. I'm Galra, so I'll be able to interact with their technology. No one's commanding me. I'm doing it."
You hear Keith speak the words, but you feel them in your viscera.
It's war. It's the climax of your team's master plan, and it's threatening to fall apart because of one missing link. Everyone is doing what they can. Keith is just doing what he can. Then why do you feel such dread in your veins? Why does the thought of Keith on what Kollivan just called "a suicide mission" twist your stomach into unpleasant knots? You don't say anything but you stare daggers into the back of Keith head, wanting to telepathically convey 'don't go' at the same time as never wanting him to get an inkling of your feelings—feelings you can't quite grasp yet yourself. All you know is that you don't want him to go. It will be like waiting for him to return from the Blade of Marmorra base all over again, watching Red trying to infiltrate, knowing she'd only do that if he was in real danger. All you know is that you want him to stay back where the two of you can keep an eye on each other, as you do, without ever acknowledging it. You want the lack of communication from Thace to be someone else's problem, regardless of the fact that your team is small enough for it to be everyone's problem; regardless of the fact that you couldn't bear to lose any of the others any more than you could bear to lose Keith, and yet it's only seeing him in danger that lights embers along your body, that makes you whisper, "Don't sacrifice yourself."
The sequel to this story is "Other Words for Love."