Page 6

For the second cycle in a row, he didn’t sleep. Half the time he monitored the ship’s systems. The other half he watched Razili sleep.

She moved often, restless even in her dreams, turning from one side to the other. Once, she’d murmured something about “molecular bonds” that had him suppressing a smile. Even in sleep, her mind worked.

Strategies to protect her once they reached Dunia Prime occupied his thoughts.

Now in long range sensor distance, the limited preliminary data suggested Scozid presence in the system—though it seemed light.

Perhaps a patrol. They had this cycle and half of the next before arrival, enough time for an accurate accounting.

Calyx ran his fingers over the controls, initiating a more thorough long-range scan focused on the planetary system. The data would be crucial for planning their approach. If Scozid craft patrolled the orbital paths, they would need to time their arrival precisely, using the moon’s shadow as cover.

Once that was complete, they were in range to scan the planet itself, which would take several hours.

If Scozid forces occupied the surface it made the mission exponentially more difficult.

Despite Razili’s determination, he wouldn’t risk her life.

The compound was vital, but finding an alternative solution would be necessary if Dunia Prime proved too dangerous.

A soft noise from the bunk drew his attention.

Razili had kicked off the blanket, her sleep clothes twisted around her body.

He’d set the fighter’s temperature regulation for himself, and Trelxak ran several degrees hotter than most humans.

He stood quietly, moved to the bunk, and carefully adjusted the cover over her.

She stirred, her eyes fluttering open briefly. “Calyx?”

“Sleep,” he murmured. “We have many hours yet before arrival.”

“Mmm.” Her eyes closed again, but her hand caught his wrist with surprising strength. “You should sleep too.”

His nanites sparked at the contact. “I will, soon.”

Her grip relaxed as she drifted back into sleep, but the touch lingered on his skin like a burn. He returned to the controls, watching as the scan data trickled in.

Two Scozid vessels in the outer system following a routine patrol pattern. They appeared to be in no hurry, and alone. The Scozid homeworld was still cycles away, and this system’s other planets were of no interest to them.

He watched as the scan of the planet itself began.

There were automated defense systems on the planet’s northern continent, still active but showing signs of age and neglect. The southern hemisphere appeared abandoned, with dense vegetation reclaiming what had once been Scozid testing grounds.

It was promising. They could approach from behind the largest moon, use the cloaking technology for the descent, and land in a clearing in the southern region, near where sensors indicated Razili might find what she needed.

The wait for complete scan results was tedious, but necessary. He occupied himself by reviewing the limited scientific data on the planet’s flora, comparing it with the compound specifications Razili shared.

“Have you slept at all?”

He turned to find her standing behind his chair, hair disheveled, eyes sharp with concern. He hadn’t heard her approach—a sign of being more tired than he’d thought.

“You should be resting.” He dodged her question.

She moved to stand beside him, close enough that he could feel the heat of her body. “I’ve slept. You didn’t answer my question.”

“I have not slept,” he admitted. “But I will once the scans are complete.”

She frowned, studying the displays. “What are we looking at?”

“Preliminary data on Dunia Prime.” He waved at the highlighted areas. “Two Scozid ships in the system, but they appear to be on standard patrol rotation. The northern continent shows active but old defense systems, and the southern hemisphere looks unprotected.”

She leaned closer, her shoulder brushing his as she pointed at a densely vegetated region. “What’s that?”

“A landing zone. Dense foliage, multiple life forms exhibiting the carbon-silicate structures you described.”

Her eyes lit up. “Perfect. When do we arrive?”

“Another cycle and a half. We’ll have complete scan data in approximately four hours.”

She nodded, then fixed him with a determined look. “Good. That gives you four hours to sleep.”

He blinked, unprepared for her firmness. “I need to monitor—”

“The scans are automated, and you’ve set proximity alerts.” She crossed her arms. “You said yourself we won’t have complete data for four hours. Even Trelxak need rest, Calyx.”

Her concern warmed something in him, even as her proximity made his nanites restless. “Razili—”

“Don’t ‘Razili’ me. If you’re exhausted when we reach the planet, you’ll be compromised.” Her expression softened slightly. “I need you at your best.”

She needed him. Those words hit hard.

He knew when he was defeated. “Two hours,” he conceded.

“Four,” she countered.

“Three,” he offered, “and I’ll sleep immediately.”

She nodded, satisfaction clear in her expression. “Deal.”

Calyx hesitated, then rose from his seat. As he moved past her toward the bunk, he caught a hint of her scent—lab chemicals, sleep-warmth, and something uniquely her. His nanites surged in response.

He lay on the bunk, hyperaware of her presence just meters away. Her scent lingered on the blankets, making it both a comfort and a torment. He closed his eyes, certain sleep would elude him.

Instead, exhaustion claimed him within minutes.

When he woke, the chronometer showed exactly three hours had passed. He sat up, immediately alert, scanning for Razili.

She sat at the controls, legs tucked beneath her, studying the data with such intense focus that she hadn’t noticed he was awake.

A strand of hair had escaped her braid, falling across her cheek.

Her finger traced patterns on the display as she muttered to herself, working through some problem in her methodical way.

The sight struck him with unexpected force. Not just desire—though that was constant—but something deeper. Admiration. Respect. A certainty that this brilliant woman was worth every moment of rhun discomfort.

“Has anything changed?” he asked.

She startled slightly, then turned. “You’re awake.” She gestured to the displays. “The scan data is almost complete. The southern hemisphere looks clear, but there’s increased activity from one of the Scozid vessels.”

He joined her at the controls, careful to maintain distance. “Show me.”

She pulled up the relevant data. “It’s changed course twice in the last hour. The patrol pattern seems less predictable now.”

Calyx frowned, studying the new trajectory. “They may have detected an anomaly. Not us specifically, but something has their attention.”

“Will it affect our approach?”

“Possibly.” He ran calculations, adjusting their planned route. “We’ll need to modify our entry vector and potentially time our approach differently.”

She watched him work; her gaze thoughtful. “Did the sleep help?”

“Yes.” He hesitated, then added, “Thank you for insisting.”

A small smile curved her lips. “I can be stubborn when necessary.”

“I’ve noticed.” He returned her smile briefly before refocusing on the problem. “We’ll need to be extremely precise with our timing now. The window for safe approach has narrowed.”

Razili nodded, her expression growing serious. “Will it work?”

“Yes,” he said with certainty. “But we’ll need to work together.”

“We can do that.” The confidence in her voice matched his own. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

He explained the modified approach plan, showing her what systems she would monitor while he piloted. She moved closer to see the display better, and his breath caught and held her scent. Their eyes met and she swayed toward him. He wanted her to kiss him. He wanted her to initiate contact.

Instead, she blinked and jumped away.

Razili studied the navigational charts and sensor data—from several feet away—as Calyx finished explaining their approach strategy.

She tried to focus, but all she could see was the way his muscles rippled under his shirt.

The subtle way the thin lines of his exterior circuitry reflected the light.

The butterflies that erupted in her belly every time she got too near.

She wanted to kiss him. She wanted him to kiss her.

She wanted more than just a kiss.

But she still wasn’t ready to give him her heart. It was laughable, really. Did he think she could will herself to fall in love with him?

With another cycle and a half before they began their approach, the cramped quarters of the fighter seemed to shrink.

He finished laying out the plan, and what part he’d need her to play. It took a second for her to realize he was done talking.

“Razili?”

She startled and nodded, hoping it was an appropriate response.

“So we have about a day left,” she said, glancing at the chronometer.

“Just sitting here watching the sensors is like watching milk boil, as my grandmother would say. Painfully slow and likely to scald you if you look away at the wrong moment.”

Calyx tilted his head. “I have witnessed milk boiling. The analogy is imprecise. Milk reaches boiling point in approximately—”

“It’s an expression,” she cut in, fighting a smile. “It means this is boring and we need to do something before I count the rivets in the ceiling panels.”

“There are four hundred and seventy-three visible rivets in this cabin.”

She stared at him. “Did you actually count them?”

“No. My nanites did.”

“Of course they did.” She rolled her eyes. “Well, before your nanites catalog the atomic structure of the floor plating, have you ever played Pallanguzhi?”

“I have not.”

“It’s a game my grandmother taught me. Usually played with seeds and a wooden board with cups, but…”—she looked around the cabin, then brightened—“we could improvise.”