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Her cyborg sat in the captain’s chair. There were streaks of bare patches amidst his thick black hair. That was where he had been wounded.
His head was held high. His spine was straight. His shoulders were broad.
She sighed her admiration. He looked impressive even from the rear.
“We’re orbiting the planet.” His deep voice coiled around her, and she shivered with delight. “As there’s a 76.1455 percent probability your friend’s male will want to return to it, it’s illogical to move farther.”
An image of Powlus Zetus was displayed on the main viewscreen.
“Then we’ll wait here until Tsadok comes to.” Kesser drifted closer to the captain’s chair.
She could claim the seat beside it.
But she didn’t want to do that. She craved physical contact with her cyborg.
As though hearing her thoughts, Strike reached out, grasped her by her waist, and lifted her onto his lap. “We won’t break orbit.”
“Yes.” She wiggled backward until her back hit his chest and the bulge in his body armor pressed against her flight suit-clad spine.
“Yes.” He splayed the fingers of his left hand over her fabric-covered stomach.
She leaned against him, relishing the connection between them, trying not to think about the fact that he might not always be behind her, supporting her in all ways.
“We rescued them.” She stated that wondrous truth. Her friend and her friend’s male were safe.
“We’ve successfully completed our mission.” Strike lowered his head and slid his cheek over hers.
She quivered. All over. “There were no problems leaving the planet?” She could barely think with him touching her.
“Our departure was uneventful.” He blew out his breath. “We’re orbiting their planet, are within striking range of its surface, and no one has contacted us. Security on Powlus Zetus is…suboptimal.”
She suspected, compared to the cyborg-controlled planets, any other place would have suboptimal security. “That’s good for us.”
Her cyborg grunted.
A companionable silence fell over them.
She watched the main viewscreen.
They flew round and round the planet. Sometimes they passed other ships. Those vessels didn’t contact them. Or slow.
Nothing dire happened. There was no danger, no sense of alarm to invigorate her.
And Strike’s form was seductively warm. His heat layered over her like a covering cloth.
Kesser’s body relaxed. Her eyelids grew heavy. “Talk to me, my male.” She struggled to keep her eyes open. “I’m falling asleep.”
“Rest, my female.” He propped his chin on the top of her head. His voice was a deep soothing rumble. “I’ll protect you.”
“That’s.” She yawned. “That’s not…” Her eyes closed and darkness engulfed her. “That’s not what we should talk?—"
She drifted into slumber before she could finish that thought.
* * *
When she woke, the images on the main viewscreen were the same. They continued to orbit Powlus Zetus.
She didn’t know how long she had slept. Her cyborg had a cable inserted in one of his wrist sockets. It might’ve been a while if he had needed that energy boost.
