Page 32 of Signed, Sealed, Seduced
“Preparations are complete,” I announce, bringing the briefing to a close. “Return to your positions. The signal will be given when—”
The chamber door slides open without announcement, a breach of protocol so unexpected that every warrior in the room reaches for their weapons. But it is not an enemy who enters.
It is Suki.
She strides in as if she belongs here, as if my war chamber is simply another corridor to navigate. Her hair is pulled back in a practical braid, her borrowed Zaterran attire modified in ways that should look absurd but somehow enhance rather than detract from her natural grace. She carries a small device in one hand, her expression set in lines of determination I have come to recognize—and, I admit, admire.
The sight of her here, in my most private sanctum, sends a jolt through me that has nothing to do with security concerns. She looks... right, somehow. As if this place has been waiting for her presence to make it complete.
“Sorry to crash the war council,” she says, not sounding sorry at all, “but we have a problem.”
Krev moves to intercept her, but I stop him with a gesture. My warriors watch the exchange with barely concealed curiosity, and I realize they have never seen me defer to anyone during atactical briefing. The precedent is dangerous, yet I find myself unable to care.
“Explain,” I command, though my tone is gentler than I would use with any of my officers.
She approaches the strategy table, seemingly oblivious to the tension rippling through my warriors. Up close, I can see the flush of exertion on her cheeks, the way her modified attire clings to her form in ways that make concentration difficult. She smells of engine coolant and that sharp, clean scent that is uniquely hers.
“Your trap won’t work,” she says, placing her device beside the beacon. “Because this isn’t just an override beacon. It’s a transmitter.”
I narrow my eyes, studying the small device she’s brought. It appears to be a scanner of some sort, cobbled together from parts likely scavenged from her ship. The ingenuity required to create such a device from available materials is impressive, another reminder of her remarkable competence.
“Elaborate.”
“I’ve been analyzing the beacon’s energy signature,” she explains, activating her device. A holographic display springs to life, showing wavelength patterns I recognize as quantum resonance fields. “It’s not just designed to override your defenses. It’s meant to transmit their specifications to an external receiver.”
The implications hit me immediately, but I find myself more fascinated by watching her work than alarmed by the tactical revelation. Her fingers move with practiced precision over the improvised controls, her expression focused with the same intensity I’ve observed during her repair work. There is something compelling about competence, regardless of the task.
Vex’ra leans forward, her scientific curiosity overriding her diplomatic reserve. “That is... not possible. Our defensiveschematics are isolated from all external networks.” Her crystalline markings pulse with suspicion. “How would a mere courier recognize quantum resonance patterns?”
Suki’s mouth quirks into a half-smile that does dangerous things to my equilibrium. “Before OOPS, I did two years in the Orion Outpost’s Engineering Dock. Specialized in signal intelligence before a disagreement with command about ethical hacking practices.” She taps the display, expanding a section with casual expertise. “When you deliver to the kinds of places OOPS sends us, you either maintain your technical edge or you don’t survive long.”
Another piece of the puzzle that is Suki Vega falls into place. Not just a courier, but a trained engineer. Not just competent, but skilled in ways that complement her natural intelligence. The revelation should not affect me as it does, yet I find myself reassessing everything I thought I knew about her.
“What makes you believe our defensive grid is vulnerable to such a crude device?” I ask, though I suspect I already know the answer.
“Maybe normal tech wouldn’t work against your defensive grid,” Suki agrees, manipulating the display to zoom in on a particular pattern. “But this isn’t normal. See this resonance pattern? It’s designed to read and transmit quantum states. Your defenses might be isolated, but they still operate on quantum principles, right?”
I exchange a glance with Krev, whose expression has shifted from dismissal to concern. He understands, as I do, the implications of what she’s saying. More importantly, he recognizes the technical expertise required to reach such a conclusion.
“The beacon would not simply disable our defenses,” I say slowly, the full scope of the threat becoming clear. “It wouldprovide our enemies with the exact specifications needed to bypass them permanently.”
“Bingo.” Suki nods, her expression grim. “One-time override would be bad enough. But this? This is like handing over the keys to your kingdom. Forever.”
The chamber falls silent as my warriors absorb this information. It is Krev who finally speaks, his voice tight with controlled rage.
“How did you determine this? The beacon has been under guard since its discovery.”
Suki gives him a look that, on a Zaterran, would be considered insubordinate enough to warrant disciplinary action. On her, it is merely... Suki. The defiance that first caught my attention, now focused on protecting us rather than defying us.
“I didn’t need the actual beacon,” she explains, as if speaking to a particularly slow child. “I had the scanner readings from when it was in my ship. Plus, I may have... borrowed some equipment from your repair bay.”
“Borrowed,” Krev repeats, the word laden with suspicion.
“Temporarily repurposed,” she amends, not backing down from his glare. “Look, does it matter how I figured it out? The point is, your trap needs to be recalibrated. If you activate the beacon as planned, you’ll be broadcasting your defensive specs to whoever’s waiting to receive them.”
I study her face, searching for deception and finding none. Only determination, concern, and that fierce intelligence that continues to surprise me. More than that, I see the way she stands before my assembled warriors without fear, defending her methods while focusing on the larger threat. She is magnificent in her defiance.
“You could have left,” I observe, the realization settling like a weight in my chest. “Your ship is repaired. You could have departed without warning us.”
