The Phoenix in the ER

Captain Ror walked Maggie back out toward the trauma floor, stopping just before the swinging double doors.

""The formal review board will meet tomorrow morning,"" Ror said quietly. ""They'll have to address the insubordination. But I suspect the medical board will find that saving a sailor's life takes precedence over administrative protocol.""

""I broke the rules, Captain,"" Maggie said. ""I accept whatever comes with that.""

""You followed the only rule that ever mattered,"" Ror replied, offering a rare, faint smile. ""Service. People. Mission.""

He reached out, tapping the small golden bird hanging from the zipper of her faded red backpack.

""She looks less like a gift-shop trinket now,"" Ror noted.

Maggie looked down at the talisman, pressing her thumb against the golden wing once—not to count the dead, but to remind herself that she was finally standing among the living.

""She's molting,"" Maggie whispered.

Ror nodded, stepping back into his office. ""Let her fly.""