Page 43 of Grumpy Alien Bodyguard

Zantress nods. "Then we have the beginnings of peace."

The transmission ends, and I turn to Varnok, my heart swelling with pride and something deeper—something I'm finally ready to acknowledge.

"That was... incredible," I whisper, reaching up to touch his face. "You just prevented a war."

Varnok's eyes soften as he looks down at me. "I've started enough of them. Figured it was time to stop one."

Gas clears his throat loudly from the pilot's seat. "So, uh, should I set course back to Armstrong to finalize this deal, or do you two need a moment to celebrate not restarting the bloodiest conflict in galactic history?"

I laugh, the tension of the last few minutes finally breaking. "Armstrong, Gas. But maybe take the scenic route."

Varnok's arm wraps around my waist, pulling me against his solid warmth. "My jalshagar," he murmurs against my hair. "A diplomat who fights with honor and a warrior who makes peace. Who would have thought?"

I lean into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against mine. "I think we might be onto something here."

"Yes," he agrees, his voice rumbling through me. "I believe we are."

I watch the Ataxian fleet break formation, their ships gracefully peeling away from Jwoon X's orbit like a flock of birds changing direction. Relief washes through me, but it's tinged with bitterness.

"They're withdrawing," I say, watching the tactical display as the Coalition vessels enter superluminal travel one by one.

Zantress's face appears on our comm screen again. "We will begin preparations immediately. Our elders have agreed that preserving life is more important than preserving location." Her expression remains solemn, but there's a quiet dignity in herposture. "The farewell ceremonies will take three standard days. After that, we will be ready to depart."

"I'll make sure Kallus honors every part of the agreement," I promise her.

When the transmission ends, Gas spins his chair around, his golden fur bristling with indignation. "So that's it? Kallus tries to have you killed, nearly starts another war, and walks away with exactly what he wanted?"

He punches numbers into the nav console with more force than necessary. "A hundred billion credits sounds like a lot, but it's nothing compared to what he'll make once those mines are operational. We're talking trillions over the next decade alone."

I sink into my seat, the weight of his words settling on my shoulders. "I know. But what choice did we have? The alternative was war."

"There's always a choice," Varnok says, his voice surprisingly calm. He's standing by the viewport, his massive frame silhouetted against the stars, arms crossed over his chest.

I raise an eyebrow. "What are you thinking?"

Varnok turns, and there's a gleam in his purple eyes that I'm starting to recognize—the look he gets right before he does something either brilliant or catastrophically reckless.

"Kallus hasn't gotten away with anything yet," he says, his lips curving into a predatory smile. "I have an idea."

Gas groans. "Last time you had an 'idea,' we ended up naked in a Fratvoy prison with nothing but our dignity to cover us. And even that was in short supply."

"This is different," Varnok insists, moving toward us with purpose. "Quinn, you said yourself that Kallus tried to have you killed. We have Daria's testimony?—"

"Which isn't enough on its own," I remind him.

"Not on its own, no." Varnok leans forward, planting his massive hands on the console. "But what if we could get Kallus to confess?"

I straighten in my seat. "How exactly would we manage that?"

"The same way I've won half my battles," Varnok says, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial rumble. "By making the enemy think they've already won."

Gas's eyes widen as understanding dawns. "Oh no. Oh no no no. Whatever you're thinking?—"

"I like it already," I interrupt, leaning forward to match Varnok's posture. "Tell me more."

Varnok's grin widens, and I feel that familiar thrill run through me—the one that reminds me why, despite all logic and reason, this warrior and I fit together so perfectly.

"First," he says, "we need to make a call to Prime Minister Serenity."

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