Page 47 of Return to Sender
The footsteps recede, moving toward other sections of the docking level. Wi’kar waits several long moments before moving, ensuring the guards are well clear of our area.
“Now,” he whispers, his breath warm against my ear.
But before we move, I reach up and cup his face, pulling him down for a quick, desperate kiss. “For luck,” I whisper against his lips.
His response is immediate and electric—a brief but passionate claiming that leaves us both breathing hard.
“That was definitely not for luck,” he observes, his voice rougher than usual.
“No,” I agree, smiling up at him. “That was because you’re incredible, and watching you protect me is incredibly attractive.”
The luminescent patterns at his temples flare brighter, and I catch the pleased satisfaction in his expression before he forces himself back to tactical mode.
“The Protocol Prime,” he reminds me, but his hand finds mine as we move toward Bay 17.
The ship sits exactly where we left it, looking innocuous among the other civilian vessels. We board quickly, Wi’kar immediately moving to the bridge to begin departure procedures.
“AXIS, initiate emergency departure sequence,” he commands. “Authorization pattern Wi’kar-epsilon-nine.”
“Acknowledged,” AXIS responds. “Emergency departure protocols initiated. Warning: departure without standard clearance may attract unwanted attention.”
“Risk acceptable,” Wi’kar decides. “Implement stealth protocols and prepare for emergency jump.”
The ship hums to life around us, systems engaging with familiar efficiency. Through the viewscreen, I watch as other vessels move normally about their business, unaware of the drama playing out in Bay 17.
“Departure clearance requested and... granted,” AXIS announces. “They’re treating us as routine contractor departure. Stealth protocols engaged.”
Wi’kar pilots us away from the station with steady competence, but I can see the tension in his shoulders until we’re well clear of Nexus Station’s immediate vicinity.
“Status?” he asks once we’re safely away.
“No pursuit detected,” AXIS confirms. “Our cover identity appears to have held. They were searching for a diplomatic courier vessel, not civilian contractors.”
I slump in my seat, tension finally beginning to drain away. “That was closer than I’d like.”
“Agreed.” Wi’kar turns to face me, and some of the tactical intensity fades from his expression. “However, we now have sufficient fuel to reach Umbra-7, and your medical supplies are secured.”
“What about Dante? He knows we need fuel—Nexus Station was the logical choice.”
“Which is precisely why we will not return there,” Wi’kar decides. “Prince Dante’s tactical thinking is predictable. He will establish observation posts at obvious refueling points and wait for us to become desperate enough to approach.”
“So we stay one step ahead by being unpredictable?”
“Precisely.” Wi’kar’s hand finds mine, the contact warm and reassuring. “We will continue to Umbra-7 as planned. It is an off-grid outpost with... flexible... approaches to documentation and inquiry.”
I squeeze his hand, marveling at how much has changed between us. Yesterday, his precise planning felt restrictive. Today, after learning exactly how thoroughly he applies that same attention to everything he cares about, it feels like the safest place in the galaxy.
“Together?” I ask, echoing his earlier word.
“Together,” he confirms, lifting our joined hands to press a soft kiss to my knuckles.
The simple gesture, so tender after the tension of our mission, makes warmth bloom in my chest. We’re more than partners now—we’re a team in every sense of the word.
“AXIS,” I call out sweetly, “now that we’re safely away from Dante’s forces, would you mind engaging privacy protocols again?”
“Privacy protocols?” AXIS responds with obvious amusement. “May I ask why?”
“I believe Agent Wi’kar’s stress levels may be elevated after our high-tension mission,” I explain innocently. “He may require some... comprehensive relaxation therapy.”
