Valkyrion – Orbit above Kelthar-3

  Back aboard the Valkyrion, Nyx was halfway through a ration bar and fully reclined in the co-pilot’s seat, one leg hanging off the armrest. The holo-console in front of her flickered with non-essential diagnostics. Mostly junk data, all of it intentional.

  Ares’s voice filtered in overhead.

  “I will remind you again, Nyx. Commander Corvus ordered no contact and no remote interference.”

  “I am not asking you to breach anyzing. I am asking you to... peek. A little peek, oui? No alarms, no mess. Just... casual surveillance. Like a nosy neighbor who forgot to mind zeir own business.”

  “There is a difference?”

  “Oui. One keeps me entertain’, and ze ozzair gets you switched off and factory-reset like a cheap vacuum.”

  From across the room, Zara leaned against the bulkhead, arms folded, eyes distant. She hadn’t said much in the last twenty minutes, but the disapproval was practically radiating off her like heat from a reactor core.

  “That’s the tenth time you’ve ‘casually peeked’ in the last hour,” she said. “He’s undercover. You watching him like a stalker isn’t going to help.”

  “Stalker? Tch, such a rude word. I prefer... how do you say... a concerned observer wiz a morally adjustable compass, non?”

  Zara gave her a blank stare.

  “Besides,” Nyx went on, licking a bit of melted ration bar from her thumb, “we don’t even know if he’s still ‘im. Maybe Valor’s old boss saw his face, called ‘im out, and now he needs help. Or worse, maybe some cartel princess is feedin’ ‘im caviar and massagin’ his shoulders like it’s a honeymoon.”

  Nyx flicked a few settings on the console, trying again to access an encrypted Spire sub-network.

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  Ares spoke up before she could finish. “I can breach the security if I choose. However, any interaction with their infrastructure could leave traces. Access pings, packet drift, intrusion flags. Their smart systems would log the tampering. One time was already risky enough.”

  “Oui, right,” she said, chewing slow. “Because heaven forbid someone notices you pokin’ around in ze digital lingerie drawer. Zat would be a tragedy.”

  Zara finally spoke. “Let him do what he went in to do. He doesn’t need babysitters.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t, but I need to know. Did you see ‘ow he looked last time? Burned, half-dead, stitched up wiz duct tape and attitude. And now? He’s in ze lion’s den dressed like ze man he murdered. Pardon me if I’m just a tiny bit interested in how that’s goin’, mm?”

  There was a pause. Then a mechanical sigh from Ares.

  “I am... reluctantly aware of increased biological activity within the suite. However, correlation does not confirm intention.”

  Zara raised her eyebrows. “Is that AI for he’s getting naked?”

  “Show me! I want to see, I must see! Don’t you dare skip ze juicy part.”

  Ares hesitated. “I can authorize a single passive uplink. It will allow you to observe, but not interact.”

  “Ha! See? I knew zere was a soul buried somewhere in zat tin can.”

  “I do not.”

  She tapped the console. “Liar.”

  Zara sighed and turned to leave. “You two deserve each other.”

  “Let’s see what kind of mess mon petit chéri is bathing in.”

  A half second passed before the feed shimmered into view. The holo-panel brightened, and a soft hum filled the cockpit as the projection resolved—grainy at first, then clearer.

  The image sharpened just enough to show Timus, sunk halfway into a lavish, steam-lined bath. His burns looked healed for the most part. Not that Nyx was paying attention to that.

  Because a human girl and a Xyrelian woman were both in the water, with him.

  Ari sat on the ledge behind him, fingers moving through what remained of his hair, massaging something into his scalp. Siyasha knelt in the shallow edge, palms resting on his thighs, whispering something Nyx couldn’t hear but did not appreciate.

  Nyx pressed her lips inward, biting both at once, the kind of expression that usually came right before violence.

  “Mm-hmm,” she said, deadpan. “Well. Zat’s enough enlightenment for one day.”

  Ares said nothing.

  “Turn it off. Now.”

  “They are administering hygiene and epidermal treatments,” Ares replied, too calm. “Shall I continue passive observation for health assessment?”

  “I said shut it off, you floating pervert.”

  The feed blinked out.

  Zara’s voice came from the hallway, distant but perfectly timed. “Everything okay in there?”

  Nyx leaned back, crossing her arms. “He’s fine. Just... adjustin’ to the culture. With his pants off.”

  She kicked her boot up onto the console, muttering under her breath.

  “Next time? I am scrubbin’ ‘is damn wounds. And no one else touches ‘im.”