Page 53 of Warrior’s Mate

He opened the security net and began issuing positions. Maelis caught his arm. His gaze dropped to her hand before returning to her face.

"Come back," she said.

It was not an order. It was not a demand the universe could honor. Kaiven covered her hand with his.

"I intend to."

"That's not a promise."

"No."

She hated him a little for refusing to lie. Then he leaned closer, close enough that she could feel his breath.

"May I kiss you?"

The question landed in the middle of war with absurd clarity. Maelis did not hesitate.

"Yes."

His mouth touched hers gently at first, as though they had time. The restraint lasted one heartbeat. Then her fingers tightened against his arm and Kaiven kissed her with the force of everything he had not said since recognition: fear, relief, desire, the impossible certainty of biology held in check by the equally important uncertainty of choice. Maelis kissed him back because she wanted him. Not because some ancient part of their species had named them. Because he had listened. Because he had changed his mind. Because he had learned the roads she knew mattered. Because he had asked.

When they separated, his forehead rested against hers.

"Later," he said again.

This time she believed there could be one.

"Go."

He went. Maelis returned to the manifest with her lips still tingling. The first detachment vessel broke through the clouds nineteen minutes later. The patrol escort came in low and hard, one engine venting white vapor. It fired before landing, striking a Sargan vehicle advancing from the north road. Kaiven's security teams used the opening to push the ground force back. Then the civilian transport appeared behind it. People in the relay cheered. Maelis did not. She was already releasing the first holding zones.

"Green groups one and two, move. Blue medical group, move. Family group west, hold thirty seconds and then follow."

The basin filled in controlled waves. The transport's loading ramp dropped before its landing struts had fully settled. Crew members ran out to guide civilians aboard. For twelve minutes, the plan worked. Then the repair-and-support vessel transmitted a broken warning.

"...drive containment... cannot maintain orbital climb... diverting..."

Kaiven's voice came over Maelis's comm. "Support ship is in trouble."

"Can it land?"

"Unknown."

"How many aboard?"

"Crew plus evacuees from the western settlements."

"How many?"

A pause.

"One hundred eighty-three."

Maelis closed her eyes briefly and reminded herself that these were people, not numbers.

"What can we do?"

"Nothing from here."