The day will come.
Whatever their odds of success, the plan was sound. They each had their assignments. Sloane turned away to examine a projection of the lower sections of the Arcology. Zavala glanced over the first of the scouting reports.
Working alongside Deputy Commander Sloane felt perfectly natural, as if the years that parted them had been restored alongside Titan. Zavala had expected the silence that followed to be equally familiar, even companionable.
The truth was apparent in the abrasive passage of each minute. The faint sense memory of ozone in his nostrils. The gulf between them had merely shifted in quality: deep, not wide.
Zavala set the datapad aside. "Sloane. There's one more item of business."
She turned to face him, ever dutiful. "Sir?"
"It's been a day for reunions, hasn't it?" He nodded to Targe.
A parcel materialized into Zavala's hands in a burst of Light and transmat energy. It was heavy, wrapped carefully in cloth and secured with buckled straps that Zavala made short work of.
Sloane stared. "Thought it'd be collecting dust on somebody's wall by now."
"A mutual friend felt very strongly that it belonged in your hands."
Sloane hesitated. Her expression hardened; she reached out to grip the handle of the blade, and hefted Crown-Splitter aloft with ease.
"Feels like it never left."