“Oh, honey.” Suki’s laugh is delighted, bright with mischief. “He getshot.Like, literally radiates heat. His body temperature rises about ten degrees when he’s aroused. Which is fantastic in winter, but absolute murder on the bed linens. I’ve burned through so many sheets.”
“The crystalline vein thing?” I ask, genuinely curious now despite the plasma fire. “Are those actually—”
“Erogenous zones. Major ones.” She fires another burst. “Stroke them the right way and he makes this sound like tectonic plates grinding together. Very,verysatisfying.”
I feel heat rise to my face. “And the vibration thing? I’ve heard rumors about Zaterrans, but I always thought it was Fringe myth—”
“Oh, if you’re asking whether Rynn does the dermal resonance thing, I amamazedwe’re having this conversation while being shot at—”
“It’s real,” I say, and my voice comes out rougher than I intend. “It’s very,veryreal. His skin vibrates at differentfrequencies depending on his emotional state. During sex, it’s—gods, Suki, it’s like being touched by something that exists in four dimensions at once.”
Suki stares at me for a beat, her eyebrows climbing toward her hairline.
Then she laughs—loud, delighted, absolutely inappropriate for a warzone.
“Polly.” She grabs my arm, squeezes. “You found areallygood one.”
“I know.” I feel my chest tighten, the bond pulsing warm and steady despite the distance. “I really, really did.”
“Henrok just gets extremely possessive,” Suki continues, like we’re gossiping over drinks instead of fighting for our lives. “Which is hot in the right context. Less hot when he’s growling at diplomats for looking at me too long during state dinners.”
“Rynn melted a spanner because a mechanic friend hugged me goodbye.”
Suki’s jaw drops. “Melted?Like, with heat vision or—”
“With his hand. Just—held it until the metal ran like water.” I pop up, take another shot. “His biology can generate extreme localized heat when he loses control. It’s... honestly terrifying. Also incredibly hot.”
“No pun intended?”
“Punextremelyintended.”
We’re both grinning now, and it’s absurd, it’s inappropriate, it’s exactly what we need. The elites are still advancing, but more cautiously now. They’ve seen two waves decimated. They’re being smart, methodical, trying to probe for weaknesses.
That caution is buying us time.
On the screen, the upload ticks to 44%.
“CAPTAIN,” Zip interrupts. “PLEASANT AS THIS CONVERSATION IS, I FEEL OBLIGATED TO MENTION THAT THE APPROACHING HOSTILES HAVE SPLIT INTOTWO GROUPS. ONE IS ADVANCING ON YOUR POSITION. THE OTHER IS ATTEMPTING TO FLANK THROUGH THE MAINTENANCE TUNNELS.”
“Can you lock them out?”
“I CAN SEAL BULKHEADS, BUT THEY’RE USING THERMAL CUTTERS. IT WILL DELAY THEM, NOT STOP THEM.”
Suki swears in three languages, two of which I don’t recognize. “How long until they reach the Relay chamber from that angle?”
“FOUR MINUTES. POSSIBLY LESS IF THEY GET CREATIVE.”
“Rusty,” Suki calls. “Can you handle the maintenance tunnel breach?”
The ancient droid’s optical sensors flare brighter. “RUSTY WOULD BE DELIGHTED. INTRUDERS WHO USE SERVICE CORRIDORS DEMONSTRATE FUNDAMENTAL DISRESPECT FOR PROPER ETIQUETTE.”
He rolls toward the secondary access point, his hidden weapons deploying with mechanical precision. “RUSTY WILL EDUCATE THEM ON THE IMPORTANCE OF USING THE FRONT DOOR.”
“Don’t let them through,” Suki says.
“RUSTY HAS NEVER DISAPPOINTED A HOST,” the droid replies primly. “RUSTY DOES NOT INTEND TO START NOW.”
He disappears into the shadows near the maintenance access, and I make a mental note to never, ever get on that droid’s bad side.
