Reyer couldn’t seem to focus on the chess game. She kept looking up and staring at something behind Vas’s shoulder. The third time he caught her at it, he turned around to check. There was nothing. The ramp was still closed and most of the lights were off in the cabin.

“What is it?” he demanded. “You’re turning me into a nervous wreck!”

“What?”

“You keep looking at something! Have some mercy on me. I’m supposed to be protecting you, but I feel like I’m missing something. What are you looking at?”

She smiled. “No, it’s nothing like that. The sun’s setting.”

Vas turned again. This time he noticed the viewport showing streaks of red and yellow mixed in with the blue of the sky. When he sat back in his seat, he was smiling. “I see.”

He tried to return his attention to the board but found it hard to focus.

“But not very well,” he said, standing. “Not from in here, anyway.”

Vas went over to the ramp and slapped the button to lower it.

“What are you doing?” Reyer asked. “The whole reason we stayed behind was to minimize the risk.”

Vas walked back to her. “Come on. The good watching it will do us far outweighs the risk of an enemy seeing us. Even Lynx would say that—something about our well-being.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Come on.” He took her hand to help her up, then pulled her across the deck and out onto the ramp. He pretended not to hear the protests that were lost in her laughter.

“See?” he said, letting go of her hand at last. “We don’t even have to leave the ship. How’s that for a happy accident?”

“Not too bad,” Reyer admitted.

“Need an arm down?”

“No.” She eased herself onto the sloped surface. “I think I’ve got it, Captain.”

Vas sat down next to her. Alix pulled her knees up to her chest.

The vivid colors crept through the sky and glowed off the small gray clouds. There were hazy rims of white light wherever the red and yellow streaks touched. It was undeniably beautiful, but Vas was caught up in watching Reyer’s face as much as watching the view. He felt a swell of gratification when he saw her smile. But it was slightly different this time. There was something delicate about her expression.

Before he could think better of it, he found himself asking, “Why are you smiling like that?”

“What?”

“You heard me. What are you thinking?”

A faint pink hue crept into her cheeks.

“Well?” Vas said.

Reyer shook her head. “Promise not to use it against me? Not to tease me?”

“I promise not to use it against you.”

“Or tease me?”

“I certainly promise not to use it against you.”

“It’s kind of complicated.”

“I’m listening.”

She let out a small sigh. “I spent most of my evenings on Huegeh watching the sunset. I started to make a point of it. It was something to look forward to. Then one day I realized I felt like it was my sunset. My sun. And that’s when I knew it was my home. Then it felt even more special. But now there’s this—” She put one arm out, gesturing to the fading light. “This is a whole different world. A whole different sunset. But it’s just as incredible. I get to see the sunset from a dozen different worlds. How lucky is that? We’re so small, and it’s so amazing how big and awesome the universe is—and I get to see it.”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Alix shrugged, then cleared her throat, and added, “It’s hard to explain.”

She glanced at Vas. He was watching her.

“What?” She sounded as if she was on guard.

Vas closed his eyes and shook his head before answering. “I’m struggling to think of how anyone could use that against you.”

Reyer found, to her annoyance, that she was blushing again. She wondered if him teasing her would have been preferable, but he was looking at her with his eyes soft and serious. They both turned their attention back to the last of the dying day.

When all the light was gone and the haze of yellow and pink had retreated from the sky, Reyer started the difficult process of getting to her feet.

“Time to go in?” Vas asked.

“I think so, sir. You’ve given me a sunset, and my back can’t handle too much more sitting.” She made it to one knee.

Vas was standing beside her, holding his arm out. He helped her up and steadied her as she got her balance on the uneven surface. “You’re probably right,” he said. “We have to mitigate some of the dreadful risks we’re taking by sitting here, doing nothing.”

Vas followed Reyer back into the ship, then stopped to raise the ramp behind them. Alix stretched her torso, pulling her arms over her head until the skin of her back twitched with pain around the scabs and under the bandages.

She closed her eyes and braced herself. “Ummm…Vas? Can I ask you for a favor?”

Adan stepped up beside her. “Anything.”

A small part of his psyche winced when he realized how eager that might sound.

Too late now, he thought.

Reyer didn’t seem to notice. She was busy wrestling with her own self-consciousness—made worse by her conviction that it was ridiculous to even feel it. She schooled herself so her voice would be as composed as possible. “Could you please scratch my back?” A microsecond passed without Vas responding. Reyer rushed to explain: “It’s the stupid—everything. The skin is healing. The bandages. And I can’t really reach it myself.” Another microsecond. “I’m about to go full werebear and use your bulkhead as a scratching post, but I thought it might be less painful—you know.”

She finally glanced at him. He was grinning.

“You don’t have to laugh at me,” she said, turning away.

“Hey, hey.” He grabbed her arm to stop her, reaching down so he wouldn’t accidentally hit a bruise. “Don’t be that way. I wasn’t laughing at you. Turn around.”

“You were laughing at me.”

“No.” He rolled the edge of his nails over her back, trying to balance between enough pressure to give relief, but not enough to hurt.

“Then what was that smile all about?”

“Promise not to use it against me?”

“No.”

A small breath of a laugh passed the grin. “Look, you’re Alix Reyer. Slayer of men—”

“Slayer of men?”

Vas pushed on her shoulder so she wouldn’t turn around. “Just go with me on this. Alix Reyer, all right? You’re practically a legend on Home Base. I’ve seen your file. I’ve studied your battle strategies and skill list. I’ve personally watched you fight. Lethal. And here you are.” He stopped scratching only long enough to motion to her with both hands. “And you’re letting me scratch your back.”

Reyer, whose head was already bowed with embarrassment, tried to suppress her laughter.

Vas took a deep, melodramatic breath. “It makes me feel kind of powerful.”

A grunt of humor escaped her. “Okay, Captain. Whatever you say.” She closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation of his fingers moving over her sore back while unconsciously humming with pleasure.

Eventually, Vas’s scratching slowed, but Reyer could still feel his finger tips resting on her shoulder blades. She offered him a “thank you” so heartfelt the gratitude weighed down the words.

“My pleasure,” he muttered. He lifted his hands and stepped away, not trusting himself to say anything else. Considering his average level of suave charm, it would be the wrong thing, and he could say goodbye to any chance of the highly skittish Alix Reyer ever asking him for a favor again.

Had his ship always felt this small? He rubbed his neck as he tried to take another step away without seeming to. She unknowingly helped ease the tension by walking back to the abandoned chess board.

“Shall we finish our game?” she asked.

He smirked. “There’s only so much I can ask of my four remaining pieces.”

“Oh. So you’re giving up?”

“You think it’s that easy to bait me? Well, not this time.” Vas walked over and knocked down his king. “It’s your win. I need a nap.”

“All right, Captain.”

Reyer settled down with her reader while Vas laid down on the middle bench. It wasn’t wide enough to sleep on, but it would give him a chance to rest. He grabbed his wrap and curled it into a thin pillow to put under his head.

Minutes passed. He heard her snicker.

“What are you reading?” he asked.

“Sorry, Vas.”

“Don’t apologize for enjoying your book.”

“I was apologizing for keeping you awake.”

Adan closed his eyes. “Read it out loud.”

“Are you giving me orders now?”

“It’s a request.” He smiled. “I hate feeling like I’m missing a joke.”

Alix glanced over at him, then began reading from where she was. She didn’t stop until they got the call from Ciro and Dr. Jane.