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His expression remained neutral. “You wish to play a game during a high-risk mission?”

“No, I wish to maintain my sanity during the twenty-plus hours we have left trapped in this metal box together.” She stood and began rummaging through the supply cabinets. “Besides, I’m curious if those fancy nanites of yours can help you beat me at a game I’ve played since I was five.”

That got his attention. “A competition, then.”

“Exactly. A friendly competition gives us something to do besides watching you calculate and recalculate our approach vector.” She triumphantly held up a container of nutrition pills. “These will work for pieces.”

Calyx watched her as she arranged small cups in two rows of seven on the chart table.

“The rules are simple.” She put six capsules in each cup except the end ones.

“We take turns picking up all the pieces from one of our cups and distributing them one by one counterclockwise. If your last piece lands in a cup with pieces in it, you pick those up and continue. Your turn ends when your last piece falls into an empty cup.”

He studied her improvised game board with intense focus. “What is the objective?”

“To crush your opponent mercilessly and dance on the ashes of their defeat,” she said solemnly.

His head snapped up, alarm briefly crossing his features.

She burst out laughing. “I’m kidding. The goal is to collect the most pieces by the end.”

He returned her grin. “Your humor is strange.”

She laughed and then demonstrated a few moves. “My grandmother was unbeatable. She claimed it was because she could see the future, but I think she just counted faster than I could.”

Calyx settled across from her, his massive frame somehow fitting into the small space without making her feel crowded. “I accept your challenge.”

“Prepare to be humbled, warrior,” she said with mock seriousness. “My five-year-old self will be avenged for all those losses to Nani.”

They began to play. Razili noticed how delicate he was with the small capsules, as if afraid he might crush them. For someone trained for combat, he had gentle hands.

“Did you always want to be a warrior?”

He contemplated his move. “All Ka’atari receive warrior training. Some choose another path after the initial years,” he replied, studying the board. “As a Trelxak, I am specially suited for calculating outcomes to aid strategy.”

“So no childhood dreams of becoming a dancer or chef or professional Pallanguzhi player?”

His brow furrowed slightly. “No.”

“That was another joke,” she clarified, then softened her tone. “I just meant, did you ever wish for something different?”

He made his move, capturing several of her pieces with a precision that suggested his nanites were indeed calculating optimal strategies. “I never contemplated a different choice. I excel in my role. I find satisfaction in it.”

“What about when you retire from the teams? Will you be an elder warrior?”

He caught her eyes. “I will be whatever allows me to protect those who matter.”

The silence that followed was heavy with implication.

“Wow,” she muttered. “Way to make my question about career choices super intense.”

His lips twitched. “Was that inappropriate?”

“No, just…”—she waved vaguely at the air between them—“a lot.”

“Ah.” He returned his attention to the board. “Your move.”

She stared at the game, trying to concentrate, but her mind kept circling back to his words. He spoke of choice and protection in a way that seemed… deeply personal. Did she matter to him? Did she want to matter to him?

“You’re distracted,” he observed. “Your heart rate has elevated by seven percent.”

“Has anyone ever told you that announcing people’s bodily functions is deeply weird?” She made her move with little thought. “Next, you’ll be telling me my digestive system is making interesting noises.”

“It is, actually. You should eat soon.”

She groaned and dropped her head into her hands. “This is what I get for being stuck in a ship with a walking scanner.”

“Would you prefer I didn’t notice?”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t announce it like a ship-wide bulletin.” She looked up to find him watching her with what might have been amusement. “What?”

“You are… unexpected, Razili.”

“Because I don’t enjoy having my stomach gurgles narrated?”

“Because most people are uncomfortable around Trelxak. You were too, initially. But now you joke with me.”

She hadn’t thought of it that way. “I guess I got used to you.”

“Like one gets used to a persistent virus?” There was definitely humor in his voice now.

She gaped at him. “Did you just make a joke?”

“I attempted to.” He captured more of her pieces, his movements precise. “Was it successful?”

“Surprisingly, yes.” She laughed. “There might be hope for you yet.”

Razili relaxed. The game provided structure, a safe framework for interaction that had nothing to do with rhun or the mission or expectations.

When Calyx eventually won—decisively—she groaned dramatically. “Your nanites cheated.”

“They simply calculated probability outcomes,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. “As did your grandmother, I suspect.”

“Are you comparing what would be a multi-million-credit, military-grade enhancement system if it weren't baked into your biology to my seventy-five-year-old grandmother?”

“Yes. I believe she would be a formidable opponent.”

That startled another laugh out of her. “She would like you.” Razili began resetting the cups. “Best two out of three?”

He nodded, then added, “While we play, perhaps you could explain why humans find bodily functions—and the body itself—embarrassing.”

“Oh stars,” she muttered. “This is going to be an endless cycle if I’m explaining human embarrassment and modesty.” She tilted her head at him. “We’ve been working near each other for months, and I haven’t asked you a single personal question.”

She watched as he captured her pieces. “You were focused on your work. That focus is admirable.”

“It’s also narrow-minded.” She frowned at the board, seeing that she was losing badly, again. “I never thought about who you were beyond the warrior who kept interrupting me.”

A hint of a smile touched his lips. “And now?”

“Now I’m wondering what else I’ve missed.” She made another move, distributing her pieces carefully. “What do you do when you’re not on duty? Do you have hobbies? Friends? Favorite foods?”

He seemed to consider her questions carefully. “I train. I study tactical histories. I spend time with the other Ka’atari warriors.” He paused. “I’m not sure they qualify as hobbies.” He inhaled. “I watch you.”

Heat flooded her. “Because of rhun ?”

“Mostly.”

“What about before rhun ? What did you do then?”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Much the same, though with less distraction.”

“I’m a distraction?” The question slipped out.

“The most compelling one I’ve ever encountered.” His voice was low, matter-of-fact, but the words fluttered through her stomach.

She focused on the game, suddenly aware of how close they were sitting, how the small space created an intimacy that was uncomfortable and… not entirely unwelcome.

“Your move,” she said, her voice slightly higher than usual.

He studied the board, then made a surprisingly sophisticated play that captured nearly half her remaining pieces. “I believe I’m winning. Again.”

“You’re a quick study.” She grinned despite herself.

Of course, Calyx won again. She laughed and reset the cups for a third round.

“Tell me about Ka’atari cuisine. I’ve been eating in the lab so much, I’ve barely tried any of your traditional foods.”

“I would be pleased to,” he said.

As he talked about kilfet and glofilt and various other foods, his voice was a caress. Their conversation flowed and she wondered if loving him would be so hard.

“Razili…” Calyx shook her shoulder as gently as possible. They had laughed and talked for hours before she yawned so big her jaw popped. He’d made her climb into the bunk. She’d made him keep talking until she drifted off. He thought maybe his plan to woo her was working.

But he’d need to put that aside for now. They’d entered Dunia Prime’s system and were lining up for their approach. He needed her to monitor the Scozid ships while he piloted them to the surface.

She blinked and pushed up on one arm, using her other hand to push her braid behind her shoulder. “What time is it?”

“We’re entering Dunia Prime’s system.”

She yelped. “Stars! Why didn’t you wake me earlier?” She scrambled from the bunk, nearly falling on her face in the process.

He caught her and set her on her feet. “You needed the sleep. I woke you when it was necessary.”

“Okay, okay. Let me change and brush my teeth.”

“We have some time.” He smiled as she ran into the refresher cubicle. “Choose a sturdy outfit that covers your skin. We don’t know how we will react to the vegetation—or how it will react to us.”

“Right. Got it.”

He returned to the captain’s chair and glanced at the sensors. The Scozid patrol was still on course, moving away from them. If their luck held, they would slip behind them to the planet’s surface.

He had contingency plans but hoped not to need them.

Razili sat in the copilot’s chair and his breath left his body. She was magnificent. Wrapped head to toe in a formfitting garment that left little to the imagination. She’d coiled her braid into a bun. Her face was serious when she looked at him.

“What?” She smoothed her hair and glanced down at her body.

He managed to croak out, “Nothing.”

“Calyx, you’re looking at me like I grew another head. Just tell me.”

“You are so beautiful. I want to lick every inch of you until you cry my name. I want to suck your clit until you scream.”

He watched the blush rise on her cheeks. She squirmed in the seat. Her fingers fluttered on her thighs.

“Um… not quite sure what to do with that.”

He shook his head and ground his teeth together before he said more inappropriate things. Like that his cock wept at the sight of her.

He forcibly turned his attention to the viewscreen. “Be sure to tell me if either of the Scozid ships deviate from their path.”

“I will.”

He heard her swallow and clocked her heartbeat as well above normal.

“I think you’re hot, too.”

He swung his head to look at her, but she focused on the display that showed the two Scozid vessels. His nanites rioted in his veins. My rhun pounded through the back of his mind on repeat. His arms moved to yank her into his lap and kiss her senseless.

He yanked them back when her communicator started screeching.

She fumbled it as she pulled it from her collection bag. “Cora?”

She put the tablet on the console where he could also see the other human. Her expression was thunderous, the big preuvret she’d adopted pacing behind her, swishing its tail.

“What in all the stars, Razili?” She yelled.

Calyx winced and instructed his nanites to dull his hearing.

“Rahel has lost his ever-loving mind and wants Kiran to send a fleet of warships after you! Where are you? What do you think you’re doing?” She pointed at Calyx, “and why the fuck is he with you?!”

Razili rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Cora, tell Rahel and Kiran there’s no need to send anyone after us.

We’re going to Dunia Prime. We’re fine. We’ll be in and out in no time.

It’s the only place that might have the compound I need to finish synthesizing the nullifier so he,”—she waved in Calyx’s direction—“can put it into whatever distribution system he’s engineering and all of us can kick Scozid ass. ”

Cora deflated. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Razili smiled at her friend. “There are only two Scozid ships in the system and they’re on the other side in a standard patrol pattern. We’ll be in and out before they know we’re here.”

“You better be,” Cora grumbled as she turned to the preuvret . “Okay Torvid. Let’s go threaten to bite heads if they don’t stop yelling at each other.” To Razili, she said, “I don’t know how long I can hold off the cavalry.”

“Just give me as much time as you can, and a head’s up if they start to mobilize before we’re back.”

“Okay. Be careful, Razili. And Calyx?”

He gave the tablet his attention.

“If anything happens to her, Torvid will eat you.”

He nodded. “Understood.” He didn’t relish the idea of being eaten by a preuvret , but the threat was unnecessary. She was his rhun . He would give his life for hers.

The screen went black and silence fell in the cockpit.

Razili mumbled, “I’m sorry. We’ll be in trouble when we get back.”

“Not if you get what you need and we return in one piece.”

She straightened her spine. “Right. And we will. We have to.”

He saw the weight she carried in the tense line of her muscles, the stiffness of her jaw, and the slight tremble in her fingers.

“Our survival does not ride on you alone.”

“I know. You’re the survival dude. I’m the chemist.” She gave him a wobbly smile.

“You misunderstand. The survival of the Denchui Alliance does not depend on you completing the formula.”

She shook her head. “Yes, it does. Without the compound, we have no defense against their technology.”

“Perhaps, but we will find another way. We will keep Earth and the other allied planets safe.”

He saw the tears she blinked away. “I don’t want you to have to. The solution is just out of reach, but I know I can grasp it. I just need something from that damn planet.”

“And you will get it.”