“He fought well?” She asks it of Henrok, who’s appeared beside us like a protective mountain.
“Protected his mate. Took plasma fire meant for others.” Henrok’s voice is respectful in a way I’ve rarely heard from him. “Fought like he had something worth surviving for.”
Mother nods. Satisfied.
“Lord Valorian.” She addresses Rynn directly, even though his eyes are barely open. “I’m Madge Morrison, OOPS senior dispatcher.”
“Also known as Mother,” I add.
“Also known as the person who signs your girlfriend’s paychecks and authorizes her medical leave.” Mother’s tone is brisk, but there’s something underneath it. Something that sounds almost like approval. “Try not to get one of my best courier’s killed. The paperwork when people die isterrible.”
Rynn manages: “I will... do my utmost... ma’am.”
“You’d better. Also, you’re covering the damages to her ship. That’s non-negotiable.”
Luzrak appears beside Mother, his Kytherian features composed but his eyes bright with something like amusement. “The Valorian Fleet has arrived and is requesting immediate contact with Lord Rynn Valorian.”
“They’re also threatening to file seventeen separate diplomatic incidents if we don’t explain the situation,” he adds.
“Handle it.” Mother waves a hand without looking up from examining a particularly nasty burn on Rynn’s shoulder. “You’re better at the ‘formal coordination’ nonsense.”
“It’s my pleasure to interface with nobility while you continue... emotional management.”
“Someone has to keep these kids from dying of stupidity. That someone is me.”
I watch Luzrak step away, his calm voice carrying as he contacts the Valorian Fleet. “Valorian Fleet Command, this is Coordinator Luzrak, STI Frontier Operations. Lord Rynn Valorian is secure and has completed his mission successfully. He is currently receiving medical attention and will brief you shortly.”
A pause. His voice takes on a dryly amused quality.
“Also, please note that Lord Valorian has formed a mating bond with an OOPS courier. I recommend sending your diplomatic personnel rather than your military personnel for first contact.”
Suki finds us ten minutes later.
She limps through the generator chamber doors with Henrok hovering at her back, one massive hand resting protectively between her shoulder blades. She looks terrible—covered in sweat and debris, favoring her left side, dark hair escaping from its tactical braid in a dozen different directions.
She’s also grinning like she won the lottery.
“Madge.” She stops in front of Mother, and for a moment, the years fall away. Two women who’ve survived too much together. Old friends. Sisters in everything but blood. “You actually flew all the way out here.”
“You think I’d miss the chance to check on my favorite defector?”
“I didn’t defect.” Suki’s grin widens. “I married a warlord and moved to his fortress.”
“Semantics.” Mother looks her over with critical eyes. “You look terrible. Also, happy. It’s confusing.”
“Three years on a rock with a territorial alien who communicates primarily through growling.” Suki leans into Henrok’s solid presence. “Best decision I ever made.”
“I noticed you’re still organizing operations during active combat situations.”
“Some habits die hard.”
“That’s what I told the insurance adjusters.”
Something shifts in Mother’s expression. Softens. “You know you can never really leave OOPS, right? We’re family. Family doesn’t get to resign.”
“Is that why you brought some of the courier fleet?”
“I brought them because someone had to save Polly’s ass. The fact that you were here too was just convenient.”
