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Alloria’s wild, unrelenting beauty gave way to the blue skies and atmosphere as the cruiser ascended higher.

The village became small, a dot in the vast, untamed wilderness.

The Rider swiveled his head, scanning and finding the curly-haired beauty in her seat.

Their eyes locked and then sliced apart.

Ki’Remi was suddenly flooded with melancholy as if he were on the cusp of destiny, after which nothing would ever be the same.

On the Perseus Prime, Ki’Remi took the lead in debriefing the admiral on their operation.

He noted Issa’s escape as she sidled out of the rear deck and left Ki’Remi to fill in the details of the mission with his boss-not-boss.

He walked with the Admiral back to his ready room, unpacking the events.

‘The attackers were foreign, not familiar at all, and you know we Sablemen have just about encountered every war-capable species in Pegasi. Give me a few days, perhaps with Mirage on the case, and I’ll furnish you with a more detailed report,’ he told the Admiral.

Lucien had no choice. When it came to covert galactic security, the Riders overrode him.

‘Keep me posted,’ the Admiral said as Ki’Remi exited his office.

As for Issa, the Sableman let her run, unsure whether he was in the mood to chase after her, even if his hardass logic said otherwise.

He needed time to mull all of her.

Also, to get as much intel from Mirage.

He sent a neural node request to the omniscient AI and then rolled right back to work, keen to occupy his mind.

Exceptshedidn’t permit him.

They were en route to his home of Eden II, the moon planet nestled in the orbit of Dunia, its sentient neighboring world.

The journey was slated to take a few days, so he avoided her for most of it.

Despite his efforts, however, Issa assaulted his senses.

He kept bumping into her all over the ship like he was drawn to her spirit by some invisible tether.

Lift, corridors, mess, even the freakin’ gym.

He gave calm and polite energy, and she delivered pleasant and professional.

His daily routine, however, was going to shit, with ceaseless thoughts of her bombarding his mind.

He tried keeping to his quarters, but that was going nowhere because, notwithstanding his reluctance, he had tofokkin’ work with her.

Today, the Rider was supervising her in surgery.

Ki’Remi stood at the edge of the sterile surgical bay, arms crossed over his chest.

His expression was carved in pure granite as he observed Issa.

Her patient, a middle-aged Rhesian engineer, lay semi-conscious on the hover bed.

His cranium was secured in a cerebral stabilizer frame, and his skull opened to reveal the delicate web of glowing neural pathways within.

‘This is a case of advanced neurocystic gliomatosis,’ Issa murmured. ‘A rare, aggressive invasion of microscopic cysts entwined around the brain stem. The approach requires absolute precision and zero margin for error. One wrong cut, a misstep, and the subject might lose voluntary motor control.’