"Control?" he asked.
"We focus on the service colonies. The places they transport their workers from: the cleaners, the maintainers…the companions. When I worked for the corporation, I saw how the executives lived. They had people for everything: someone to clean their offices, someone to prepare their meals, someone to schedule their days. They treated these workers like furniture, like they were invisible. But remove those people?" I shook my head. "Suddenly, they can't function. Suddenly, they're vulnerable. And that's when they make mistakes."
"You're thinking like a guerrilla," Torvyn said, something like admiration in his voice.
"I'm thinking like someone who knows how these people operate. They don't fear losing money, they have too much of it. They fear losing control over their own lives. We take away their comfort. We take away their sense of individual security. We show them that this fight is personal," I said.
Torvyn nodded. "We also rescue the most vulnerable and create a clear moral distinction between the Starbreaker and the corporations."
"Then, when they move their security units to the service colonies, we hit the financial supply convoys again. That's when we take their money," I said.
Torvyn stood. "Then we use that money to pay off the bounty hunters and have them attack the security forces instead."
I stared at him, my anger beginning to dissolve. He got it. More than that, he was building on my idea rather than just accepting it.
I took a step toward him, my body betraying my words. "I'm still mad at you."
He wrapped his arms around me and traced small circles on the small of my back with his thumb. For a long moment we just stood there, silent. Part of me wanted to pull away, to make him work harder for this. But through the tether, his emotions flooded me; remorse so deep it bordered on anguish, tangled up with his desire and his fear of losing me. The raw vulnerability of it cut through my defenses.
My anger was still there, hot and valid, but I felt it beginning to transform. Not into forgiveness exactly, but into something softer. Understanding. Maybe even compassion.
"I know," he said softly. "You have every right to be."
I sighed and nuzzled my head against his chest. He looked down at me, his hot breath caressing my cheek. I turned my chin up and gently kissed his neck, my lips tracing a path up his jawline. His heart beat fast against my chest. A wave of lust smashed into me through the tether, making my knees go weak.
His eyes darkened, pupils blown wide, and the surge through the tether slammed into me; hot, dizzying, and relentless. Desire rushed through first, sharp and immediate, but beneath it was something fragile and aching. His fear of failing me again. His need to prove that he was listening now. That this time, he would move only as fast as I let him.
He shifted closer, the solid length of him pressing into me, and I felt his reaction unmistakably through the thin barrier of our clothes. A shudder passed through him, echoed instantly through the tether, and my breath caught in response.
His hands slid to my hips, thumbs brushing slow, deliberate arcs that made my skin prickle. He dipped his head, kissing me again, deeper this time, until my fingers curled into his shoulders. When hebroke the kiss, it was only to trail his mouth along my jaw, down my throat, lingering where my pulse raced beneath his lips.
“You are everything, Kira,” he said quietly, voice rough with restraint. “Not because you lead us. Because you choose us.”
The words sank into me, warm and heavy. My head tipped back against the mattress as a low sound slipped free, my body answering before my mind could. “And the plan?” I asked, breathless, even as my legs tightened around him, drawing him closer.
A faint smile touched his mouth as he kissed his way back down my neck, slower now, unhurried. His lips traced heat along my skin, followed by the scrape of teeth, then the soothing press of his tongue. “I support it,” he murmured. “And we’ll begin—” His mouth dipped lower, his hands steady, possessive but never demanding. “—as soon as we’re done here.”
He lifted my shirt inch by inch, exposing skin to the cool air before immediately covering it with his hands, his mouth. He took his time, kissing, lingering, learning, until my breath came shallow and uneven, until the tether pulsed with shared want so strong it made me tremble.
When his hands finally slid lower, it felt inevitable rather than rushed. Every touch was intentional, every reaction mirrored through the tether, desire feeding desire in a slow, intoxicating loop. I arched into him, silently asking for more, and his answering growl sent another rush through me.
He shifted, settling between my legs, and the moment stretched, charged, and aching,before he finally pressed closer, fitting within me in a way that stole my breath. The tether flared bright and overwhelming as we moved together, slow at first, finding rhythm, finding trust.
There was no urgency, no loss of control. Just heat, closeness, the steady build of pleasure and reassurance braided together until it was impossible to separate one from the other. He held my gaze the entiretime, grounding me, anchoring me, as if this, us, was the only thing in the universe that mattered.
When release finally crested, it came not as a sharp edge but as a deep, rolling wave. Emotion flooded the tether. Relief, devotion, joy. Leaving us breathless and undone, clinging to each other in the narrow space of his bunk.
We lay together afterward, tangled together, limbs overlapping because there was nowhere else to put them. The mattress barely fit two people, forcing us close, not that either of us tried to move. I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as his fingers traced slow, absent patterns along my shoulder.
Through the tether, his emotions settled into warmth, relief, and renewed devotion.
“We should probably get back to the bridge,” I murmured, making no effort to move.
“Eventually,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “They can wait five more minutes.”
I smiled, eyes drifting closed again.
Five more minutes sounded perfect.
