He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, blinking device. He lifted his leg.
There, clamped around his right ankle, was a thick metal band. It pulsed with a steady red light.
"Ankle monitor," Ragia explained, dropping his foot back down. "And travel restrictions. The Xeca is grounded on Earth for… for the foreseeable future. We have to report to Reagalus HQ every morning… for a roll call. If I step out of line, or if I miss a check-in..."
He made a distinct exploding noise with his mouth.
"They blow your leg off?" Shorty squeaked, peeking out from behind Mommy.
"Worse," Ragia winked. "They ground me. No flying. No missions. Just paperwork and desk duty."
"So we are stuck on Earth?" Navi groaned. "Earth is boring. The gravity makes my hair flat."
"It's better than Mars," Mommy said softly, walking over to pat Ragia's unbruised cheek. "At least the air is breathable. And we are together."
"Exactly," Ragia nodded. "We are together. And I am a man. That is the important part."
"That is the scientific anomaly," Prof interrupted, stepping closer. She was staring at Ragia with intense, analytical hunger. "How, Capt? The GX-778-C toxin... I didn't use it. The transformation was advancing to the Queen stage. How did you revert? What caused the chromosomal rollback?"
Ragia reached into his jacket pocket again. He pulled out the dusty bottle he had walked in with.
Ginjang...
He handed it to Prof. The bottle was…
Half empty.
"I drank it," Ragia said simply. "In the shuttle on the way back here."
Prof took the bottle, holding it up to the light like it was a holy relic. She sniffed the rim.
"Alcohol?" she frowned. "Fermented rice wine? That is illogical. Ethanol should not have the capacity to rewrite genetic code."
"It wasn't just booze, Prof," Ragia said, his voice lowering. He looked at me, his eyes darkening with a sudden intensity. "There was something in it. Or maybe it was just the kick I needed. I drank it, and I felt... fire. Real fire. Not the Krall hunger. But the human need. I remembered who I was. I remembered what I wanted."
He took a step toward me, closing the distance again.
"I wanted you, Iya," he whispered. "I wanted my ship. I wanted my family. And the Queen... she just burned away."
"I need to analyze this," Prof muttered, already turning toward her lab, her mind racing with formulas. "If the fermentation process in the Vesuvius caverns created a unique enzymatic reaction with the Martian atmospheric isotopes..."
"Prof," I called out. "Figure it out later."
"But the data!" Prof protested. "The implications for Inquor physiology are..."
I didn't let her finish.
I was done with talk. I was done with explanations. I was done with generals, bruises, ankle monitors…
And scientific miracles.
I grabbed Ragia by the lapels of his jacket and yanked him down.
"Shut up," I growled against his mouth.
I kissed him again. This time, it wasn't desperate. It was possessive. I bit his lower lip, tasting the iron of his blood. I ground my hips against his, feeling the unmistakable, hard ridge of his erection pressing against my stomach.
He was back. He was hard.
And he was mine.
"Navi!" I barked, breaking the kiss but keeping my face inches from his.
"Y-yes, Vice?" Navi stammered from her chair.
"Warm up the engines," I ordered. "Keep the Xeca humming. I don't care if we are grounded. I want the vibrations running through the hull. Maximum output on the idle thrusters."
"Aye, Vice!" Navi saluted, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.
"Capt," I said, looking into those gold eyes. "You have a debriefing. In my quarters. Now."
Ragia grinned. It was the smile I had missed for a month. The smile that promised trouble.
"Yes, Ma'am," he said.
I didn't wait. I grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the exit. I heard the crew whistling and cheering behind us. I heard Private shouting something about 'clak-clak' and 'giga-giga'. I heard Chef offering to make post-coital snacks.
I didn't care.
I pulled him down the corridor. My heels clicked urgently on the metal floor. His heavy boots thudded behind me.
We reached my door. I palmed the lock. It hissed open.
I shoved him inside.
The room was dark, lit only by the ambient starlight from the viewport. It smelled of bergamot and the sterile cleanliness I used to hide my mess.
I slammed the door shut and locked it.
I turned to face him.
And then, I looked at you.
Yes. You!
The one holding the book. The one scrolling the screen. The one who has been waiting through thirty chapters of slow-burn torture, scientific babble, and near-death experiences.
I know you.
I know what you want.
You want to see it, don't you? You want to know if the Inquor really works. You want to see if the Vice Captain screams when she loses control. You want the fluids. You want the friction. You want the Felt.
Usually, I would tell you to get out. I would tell you that this is private. That an officer does not perform for an audience.
But tonight?
Tonight, I am so happy, so relieved, and so incredibly, painfully horny that I am feeling generous.
You stuck with us while he was a girl. You stuck with us while we cried on Mars. You earned this.
So, sit down. Keep your eyes open.
Because I am about to show you exactly how Explorer 7 welcomes their Captain home.
"Iya," Ragia growled from behind me.
I turned back to him.
He had already shrugged off his leather jacket. It hit the floor with a heavy thud. He was unbuttoning his shirt, his fingers moving with a clumsy haste that made my breath hitch.
His chest was exposed. Broad. Muscular. Covered in a light dusting of dark hair that trailed down to his belt buckle. The scar from the Gyra incident was there, a pink jagged line over his heart, but it moved with the steady, powerful rhythm of his breathing