Page 100 of Claimed By the Alien Assassin
I’m in the comm cabin when the encrypted ping lands, not expecting anything that might shade laughter or love—even out here in the chokepoint of a starless sector. My fingers hover over the holo-keyboard, heart fluttering at a name from a past I thought buried under textbooks and late-night experiments:Professor Mirea Kaltsin, my mentor at Novaria Academy, the woman who taught me that “engineering is heartbreak made practical.”
I don’t hesitate. I tap the decrypt and read:
Josie—They’re building a dossier. Classified. They link you to an emotional compromise of a “classified asset.” Apologies in advance. You might want to lay low. M.
My chest cramps. I can almost smell the antiseptic of the lab where I worked under her, mind dancing with circuits and hope. And now? They call me suspect because I love Dayn. Because I dared to cross lines they drew in star systems and blood.
“Dayn,” I call, voice low and sharp. He looks up from the holo-plotter, brow knitting in that way that tugs at my heart—protected, curious, cautious.
“What is it?”
I shove the comm pad toward him. He reads, chest flexing in silent rage.
“They’ve put you on a list,” I say, anger burning my voice like a welder’s torch. “They’re watching us.”
His nostrils flare. “Let them watch.”
I nearly bite back the retort. “That’s not good enough. They’re tracking us because… because we follow our hearts, apparently.” I laugh, short, raw. “We’re terrorists of love now.”
Dayn rises, moving toward me until the hilt of his presence brushes my shoulder. “I’m with you. Always.”
I spin on him, breath catching. “It’s not about you. It’s about me. They call me a threat because Ifeel something. They’re punishing me—punishing us—for being… for being real. Real people. Realalive. I’ve saved whole goddamn colonies, Dayn. I've hacked Vortaxian AIs. But mention that Iloveyou—and suddenly I’m the enemy?”
He cups my jaw. His thumb brushes the corner of my lips. “You did all that while loving me. If that’s a crime, then I’m guilty too.”
I close my eyes, leaning into him even as my jaw trembles. “This is bigger than us. They don’t understand what we are.” My voice drops to a whisper. “They want control. Compliance. They fear love that breaks every mold.”
He kisses my forehead, quiet but fierce. “Then let’s give them a mold that breaks them.”
I press a hand to his chest, feeling the slow-burn steadiness beneath his armor. “We don’t destroy more planets to do this. We outsmart them. We out-engineer them. We use their own tools.”
He nods, eyes smoldering with devotion. “You and me. Always.”
The moment is electric, electric as plasma arcs in a welder’s torch, but tinged with danger. I swallow. “We need a plan.Diplomatic meets and cover identities—I fly support missions under hellfighter intel cover, you remain black ops. We keep our tracks hidden.”
He presses a finger to my lips. “And we keep each other.”
My heart surges. “Always.”
That evening,I drill into the comm systems: encryption algorithms, verification loops, intel routing. My mind races through Kaltsin’s old lecture notes—it’s thrilling again, that click when circuits obey logic. The cabin’s glow flickers across the trading desks and scattered star charts.
Dayn watches, leaning in to study the code like it’s a poem. “I still don’t know how you do that,” he murmurs. “Make light bend to your hand.”
I look at him, admiring the warrior in repose. “Magic,” I reply. “No, janky code that I can fix on the fly.”
He chuckles. “Janky or not, it works. Always.”
My stomach flutters at the warmth in his tone. But the flick of his brow reminds me of what facing down Kaltsin’s intel warning really means.
I turn back to the pad. I cross-check protocols, insert ghost codes, scramble location data. I breathe in the hum of the ship’s veins.
“You ever thought,” I say quietly, “that love could be a weapon?”
He nods. “The strongest weapon. Steel breaks. Trust lasts.”
I pause mid-keystroke. “Then we’re armed to the teeth.”
He shifts closer, ghosting an arm across my shoulder. “Josie McClintock: engineer, teacher, rebel coder… terrorist of love.”
