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"There was a moment when three of them tried to flank him.

Rann dropped low, executed this " He demonstrated the move, a spinning kick followed by an upward strike.

His body remembered the sequence with unexpected precision, muscles flowing through the motion with a smoothness that surprised him. "He dropped one of them instantly."

Dropping lightly to his feet back on the mat, he looked at her.

"Then the second attacker came at him with some kind of blade weapon. Rann countered with the same parry and disarm sequence the third attacker used against Covak seconds later. Identical. Down to the finger positioning."

She watched him, her expression neutral. "Many combat styles share similar foundations. Technical convergence is common across species with similar physiological structures."

"This wasn't convergence." He shook his head. "When one of them dropped their rifle, Rann picked it up and handled it like he'd trained with it for years. He knew exactly where the power regulator was, exactly how to adjust the focus aperture. There was no fumbling, no learning curve."

He paced the length of the bench, tension building under his skin. The memory replayed in his mind with crystal clarity. Rann, moving like a mirror image of the attackers, anticipating their movements before they made them.

"And during the debrief, when Anson confirmed the clan identifiers?" He turned back to her. "Rann wouldn't make eye contact. Not with me, not with Ryke. Everyone else bought his explanation about the M'Suun being bounty hunters, but something's off."

She tilted her head. "You suspect Rann's got some kind of connection to these attackers."

"I don't know what I suspect," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "But he knows something he's not telling us. And given that they've tried to kill us twice now -"

"We need to know more," she finished for him, then gestured vaguely in his direction. "Are you certain your judgment isn't being affected by... whatever is going on with you?"

He stopped pacing, jaw tightening. The dig hit closer to home than he wanted to admit.

He'd been questioning himself since what happened in the medbay, wondering if these new instincts were trustworthy.

The memory of his confrontation with Rann in the galley that morning flashed through his mind, as did the rage that had overtaken him when the pilot had winked at Mira.

"This isn't about me." His voice came out rough. He took a breath, forced his tone to level. "Look, I analyzed hundreds of combat patterns during my intelligence work. This isn't instinct. It's observation."

She studied him for a long moment, probably cataloging everything about him from his pulse, his pupil dilation, right through to his micro-expressions. Being analyzed by her was like being scanned by a walking lie detector.

"What exactly are you asking me to do?" she asked finally.

"I need someone else to verify what I saw." He met her gaze directly. "You have combat expertise, enhanced perception that can detect patterns human eyes might miss, recording capabilities that captured the whole firefight, and most importantly -"

"I'm not emotionally compromised."

He didn't flinch. There was no point denying it. Something about Mira had triggered protective instincts so overwhelming they frightened him. But this wasn't about that. At least, not entirely.

"Will you help me?"

Jesh considered him, head tilting slightly as internal calculations ran.

"So you want me to analyze Rann's fighting style against the M'Suun attackers," she said, her tone dry. "I've been in combat literally since I was born, Davis. I know how to run an analysis."

He inclined his head. "Right. Sorry."

"I'll need to access Imperial Latharian databases for a comprehensive comparison," she said, already thinking through the process. "Their military archives will have the data I need."

"Can you get in?"

She gave him a look that questioned his intelligence. "Imperial security is... primitive from my perspective."

"Of course," he nodded.

"I'll also need Jex's observational data," she said, half talking to herself. "He was monitoring the entire engagement from orbit. His Fleet-enabled processing would have caught details neither of us saw."

Davis nodded, relief loosening the knot between his shoulder blades. She was taking his concerns seriously. That was more than he'd expected. "That's exactly what I was thinking. If it's just me seeing this, I can let it go. But if there is a connection "

"Then Rann has explaining to do," she finished. "But if your suspicions prove founded, what then?"

The question caught him off guard. He hadn't thought that far ahead; he had been too focused on confirming what he'd seen.

"I'd take it to Ryke," he said, but the answer sounded hollow even to his own ears.

"Would you?" Her eyes narrowed. "Or would you confront Rann directly?"

He didn't answer immediately. He couldn't. The thought of confronting Rann sent something dark rolling through his veins. His fingers twitched, remembering the satisfying impact of driving the pilot against the galley counter earlier.

"I'd gather evidence first," he said carefully. "Solid, undeniable proof before taking any action."

"And if the evidence suggests Rann poses a danger to the crew?" Jesh pressed, her voice neutral but her eyes sharp. "To Mira?"

Hearing Mira's name sent another pulse of that protective instinct through him.

"Then I'd do whatever is necessary to neutralize the threat." The words came out as a growl.

She held his gaze. "I'll investigate," she said finally. "But don't go after Rann half-cocked. You saw how that worked out this morning."

"I know." Davis exhaled slowly. "That's why I came to you instead of going straight to Ryke with half-formed suspicions. Or taking matters into my own hands."

"A surprising display of restraint," Jesh said, her lips quirking, "given this morning's demonstration."

He winced. "That was different."

"Was it?"

Before he could reply, she carried on.

"I'll analyze the combat footage and infiltrate the Imperial databases. Cross-reference with Jex." She straightened up, clearly considering the conversation concluded.

"Thank you," he said, genuinely grateful.

She headed for the door, then paused and looked over her shoulder with a smile. "Just try not to attack any more of the crew while I work on this."

She left him alone with his thoughts. Crossing to the heavy punching bag suspended in the corner, he drove his fist into it with enough force to send it swinging. The impact jolted up his arm, a satisfying physical sensation that helped ground him.

He delivered another series of blows, each focusing his thoughts. The physical release helped clear his mind, forcing his breathing to steady.

One thing at a time.

First, confirm his suspicions about Rann. Then

His mind wandered back to Mira. Her scent lingered in the gym where she'd trained, and the memory of her taste was still on his tongue from their encounter in the observation lounge.

Heat surged through him at the memory of her beneath him, the small sounds she'd made when he'd touched her, how perfectly she'd responded to his mouth.

Then settle things with Mira. Properly this time.

No interruptions. No unanswered questions. No barriers between them.