Page 124 of Reaper Said Mine

“You will rest.”

“I need to document the scene.”

“Vakka will document.”

“Vakka is security.”

“Vakka is competent.”

“Vakka is not independent press.”

I stare at her, still kneeling in the wreckage, surrounded by smoke, diplomats, guards, and the ruined pieces of a machine assassin.

She stares back with blood on her temple and her compad cracked on the floor.

I love her.

The realization does not arrive softly. It tears through me with the brutal certainty of an airlock opening onto stars. I do not say it. The word would crush the moment beneath too much weight, and she has already survived enough impacts today. But I know it with a force that changes the room. My jalshagar. My maddening, fearless, frightened, brilliant human. Not a possession. Not a weakness. The living truth of everything I thought power was meant to protect.

I pick up her damaged compad and hand it to her. “Three minutes.”

Her eyebrows lift. “Really?”

“Three minutes to record the scene from where you sit while the medic finishes. Then you go to medical.”

“Five.”

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Ursa.”

“Fine. Three and a half.”

Vakka shouts from across the room, “Give her four, lord. She’ll waste the half arguing.”

Skahar, who has somehow crossed the room through chaos without anyone seeing him move, leans on his cane near the shattered table. “The dockmaster speaks wisdom.”

I look at the ceiling and consider asking the station to swallow us all.

Ursa takes the compad with trembling fingers, activates its damaged recorder, and turns toward the wall. Her voice steadies as she speaks, though I can hear the strain beneath it. “This is Ursa Ramone aboard Guyver Station. During a negotiation session attended by Coalition, Alliance, Earth, and station representatives, a concealed mechanical device discharged from a service wall panel, narrowly missing Ambassador Theryki’s original seating position and crossing the press rail. Station security engaged immediately. Investigation is ongoing.”

She stops, breathes, and looks at me.

I expect her to mention that I took the second shot.

She does not.

Not yet.

Even half-dazed, she protects the story from becoming only us.

Vakka approaches with a piece of the assassin suspended in a containment field. Her face has gone grim. “Lord.”

“What?”

“The emitter assembly is Combine-built.”