Chapter 2
The door slid shut behind us, and before I could say anything at all, Torvyn held up a finger and walked over to the fabricator.
I glanced around his ready room while I waited.
This space was purely functional: a desk with a single data tablet, a narrow bunk, weapons mounted on the wall in precise alignment.
Even the air felt different in here; cooler, drier, calibrated to Zorathi preferences rather than human comfort.
The only concessions to comfort were a small viewport showing the stars streaking past as we traveled through slipspace and a small fish tank. It was a soldier’s room.
"Would you like anything?" he asked without turning around.
"I'd like to have a conversation about what just happened out there."
He paused for a split second, then spoke to the machine. "Tea, Earl Grey, hot."
"You drink tea?"
The fabricator hummed, particles coalescing in the chamber until a steaming cup materialized on a delicate saucer. The corporate labs had fabricators too, but they'd been locked behind requisition forms and security clearances. I'd never seen one used for something as simple as tea.
He gently picked up the cup and saucer, then went to his desk and sat down. He motioned for me to sit in one of the chairs across from him, then he took a slow sip and looked at me.
I stood my ground and crossed my arms. I'd been in too many situations like this. A man saying he wanted to talk, only to deliver a lecture about my deficiencies.
Not today, bucko.
"I think I'll stand. I'm not a big fan of mind games and power projection, so let's cut to the chase. When I signed on to this, I was promised two things: honesty and equality. Instead, I'm getting middle management. Explain yourself."
"Before we rescued you, had you ever had an open bounty placed on your head?"
"Of course not. I was a research scientist working for a corporation. The most exciting thing that happened to me, before all of you, was breaking a flashing light with a wrench. A rebel I was not."
He nodded. "Thank you for sharing that with me. Open bounties—"
"Don't be a patronizing shit," I said, sending my thoughts through the tether so everybody could feel my words.
Torvyn flinched, his cup shaking. "I was not being patronizing. I was being honest with you, like I promised."
"Well, I didn't like your tone. So if we are going to have this conversation, why don't we start with the important part?"
"I thought we were," he said, confusion filling his eyes.
"No, we were starting with the part you thought was important."
"Are those two things different?"
"God, you are such a man."
Torvyn blinked, his jaw working as he visibly bit back a response.
"Fine, let me spell it out for you since your magic tether isn't doing its job right now.
The important part was how you spoke to me on the bridge.
That was not okay. You didn't respect me, my position, or my input. You shut me down before taking a beat to try and understand the point I was making,” I said, doing everything in my power to stop my voice from shaking.
"I am sorry I did that."
"I'm not done."
He put his tea down and held up both hands in surrender.
"I have never heard you speak to anybody else the way you talked to me in there.
I wasn't an equal, I was a subordinate. You dismissed me and treated me as less than.
You hurt me. You made me feel insignificant, and worse, you made it okay for everyone else to talk to me like that," I said, tears welling in my eyes.
"You tell me you love me, then treat me like that in front of the other three beings I trust more than anything in this universe.
If you can do that so easily, and without remorse, how will you speak to me in front of people you don't know or care about? "
He stood.
"No, absolutely not. You don't get to touch me right now," I said, taking a step back. "I need you to explain exactly why you did what you did. We are not okay."
"I understand," he said, sitting. "I admit, I was not thinking about you or your feelings. I was thinking about keeping the ship safe."
"You don't think they are the same thing?" I asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Do you think I would ever do anything to put this ship, you, them," I said, waving at the door to the bridge, "in danger? In a situation where they could be killed?"
Torvyn's eyes dropped to the desk as he pursed his lips and thought about my words for a moment. "That is a fair point that I didn't consider. No, I don't think you would ever intentionally do that. I was wrong for not considering that."
He looked up at me and offered a soft smile.
"For many years, I only needed to consider the well-being of the ship and how to conduct our missions safely.
My Zorathi compatriots all have their own specialties, and we are so used to deferring to each other's expertise when the situation demands it.
I overlooked you, your thoughts, and your emotions.
I was wrong. I apologize, and I promise it won't happen again. "
He ran a hand through his hair, a rare gesture of uncertainty from him.
"When I took command of the Starbreaker, I was young and angry.
I thought clarity of purpose meant never questioning my decisions.
The other Knights... they learned to work around my rigidity.
They learned when to push back and when to let me lead.
" He met my eyes. "But you shouldn't have to learn to work around me, Kira.
You should be able to trust that I'll listen. "
The raw honesty in his voice, echoed through the tether, hit me harder than his initial apology.
I glared at him. Why was he so good at apologies? I was ready for a knock-down, drag-out fight, where I stormed out at the end and didn't talk to him for the next twenty-four hours while I waited in my quarters for him to come to me and apologize. Instead, I got this.
Wait, did I actually miss fighting? Was I looking for some drama? I pinched my nose and cursed under my breath. Here was a guy admitting he was wrong and doing the work, and all I could think about was how used I was to these situations going sideways that I couldn't accept a sincere apology.
Get it together, babes. These aren't random hookups anymore.
I appreciate that, self. You really know how to lift a girl up.
Anytime!
"Thanks, I guess," I said, still glaring at him. "So what's wrong with my idea?"
"Your idea will get us killed, and this ship captured. Worst of all, it opens the Zorathi Reach to a conflict with the Corporations."
"Hiding lets Voss control the narrative, and it proves to the galaxy that we are more concerned with our own survival than helping people. Not to mention, I feel like the Reach can more than take care of itself," I said.
"That isn't the problem. It is a political issue. Something you don't understand yet because we haven't had time to teach you," he said.
"Well, I'm here now."
"Now isn't the right time to teach you about the Reach. I can handle most fallout from anything that comes back to us. Right now, we need to decide our next step. So what would you do in my place? Please tell me your plan. Convince me that what you want to do accomplishes both of our goals."
Now we were getting somewhere.
"We run silent, like you want. We don't hit corporate supply chains anymore. We don't hit corporate production hubs either. Both of those will command the most security. Instead, we hit them where it really hurts."
"What else possibly hurts these people more than money and producing things to sell?" Torvyn asked.
"Control."
"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 he broke 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 entire time, 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.