14. As Long as You're Mine
He knows with every conscious and dream-state stroke that the metal beneath his hands is his. He put his life, what was left of it, into building this, his drive realized, the Silverna tangible form given to that which he was left with. And when that hadn't been enough, there had been the empire to so graciously pick up the slack. Every tap of cane, kiss of booted sole, leather-clad, fingered caress upon framework, reassurance that it was very real. The whiffs of air from personnel, alarmed informative shouts throughout the bridge, imperial help and presence, only reinforced his resolve. Gloved hands extended from the almost-reclined body in the command chair gripped and released the ends of its arms.
As long as he had this ship, vengeance was his.