As they worked, Solar became aware of subtle changes in his own behavior. He found himself creating reasons to demonstrate techniques that required physical proximity. His energy emissions shifted in response to her movements, almost as if seeking to align with her biorhythms.
These responses were not tactical. They served no mission objective. They were, he was beginning to realize, entirely personal.
"Hand me that coupling tool?" Dani requested, reaching out without looking up from the panel she was repairing.
Solar placed the instrument in her palm, deliberately allowing his fingers to brush against hers. The contact sent a pleasant resonance through his energy field that he made no effort to suppress.
Dani glanced up, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "You did that on purpose."
"Yes," Solar admitted, seeing no tactical advantage in deception. "I find our energy exchange agreeable."
Her smile widened. "That's one way to put it." She returned to her work, but not before adding, "For the record, I find it agreeable too."
They continued their repairs, moving methodically through the ship's most critical systems. It reminded him of combat formations with his Elite Guard unit, but with a fundamental difference. His warriors followed his commands out of duty and training. Dani worked alongside him as an equal, her cooperation freely given, her insights offered without obligation.
The distinction was significant in ways Solar was still processing.
"I think we've done all we can with the stabilizers," Dani said finally, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. "Unless you want to completely rebuild them, which might be easier than trying to fix this mess."
"The improvements are substantial," Solar assured her, reviewing the system diagnostics. "Catastrophic failure probability has decreased by forty-seven percent."
"Only a fifty-three percent chance of exploding? I'll take it," Dani quipped, though her expression remained serious. "What's next on the crisis list?"
The words felt like a sexual invitation, and he found himself starting to reach for her. But before Solar could respond, the ship lurched again, more violently this time. The lights flickered, plunging the engine room into momentary darkness before his natural radiance compensated by casting everything in a golden glow.
"That was not a stabilizer issue," Solar observed, moving quickly to check the control panel. "The gravitational compensators are failing."
"Is that bad?" Dani asked, bracing herself against a support beam.
"Not immediately life-threatening, but significant," Solar explained, his hands moving across the controls with practiced precision. "The artificial gravity field maintains our position within the vessel. Without it?—"
The ship shuddered again, and suddenly they were weightless. Dani gasped as her feet left the floor, her body drifting upward. Solar, accustomed to zero-gravity combat training, immediately anchored himself to the control panel with one hand while reaching out to catch her with the other.
"I've got you," he assured her, pulling her close as they floated in the engine room's golden-lit space.
"This is different," Dani managed, her body pressed against his as she adjusted to the sensation of weightlessness. Her hair floated around her face, catching the light from his skin in a way that reminded him of flames.
Solar found his attention divided between the failing system and the feel of her supple warmth against his. Her energy signature pulsing in a pattern that increasingly felt like an extension of his own. The proximity was tactically unnecessary but personally desirable.
"I can restore gravity," he said, though he made no immediate move to do so. "It requires redirection of power from non-essential systems."
"Define non-essential," Dani replied, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt to stabilize herself. The movement brought her face closer to his, close enough that he could feel her breath against his skin.
"Life support, propulsion, and defensive shields are essential," Solar listed automatically. "Entertainment systems, secondary lighting, and thermal comfort regulation are non-essential."
"So we'll be alive but cold and in the dark?" Dani summarized.
"Correct. Though my natural emissions can provide both light and heat."
Dani's eyes met his, something shifting in her expression. "Your natural emissions, huh? Those have been pretty useful so far."
The subtle change in her tone triggered an immediate response in Solar's energy field, causing his skin to brighten. He recognized the pattern from their previous encounter, the heightened biorhythms, the dilated pupils, the slight elevation in her body temperature. Signs of arousal.
"The repairs can wait," she said softly, her hand moving to touch his face. "We're already floating in zero gravity. Might as well take advantage of it, don't you think?"
Solar considered this suggestion. From a purely tactical perspective, system repairs should take priority. But he was discovering that not all decisions needed to be tactical.
"The gravity will eventually stabilize on its own," he reasoned, his hand sliding to her waist. "Approximately twenty-three minutes."