Chapter 26: An Alliance on the Edge of War

The galaxy was shifting.

For the first time in history, the Kha’reli and the Narn—through me—had made tentative peace. But trust was fragile, and the warlords’ patience even more so.

As I returned to the G’Tarok, my mind raced. Had I just signed my own death warrant? The Kha’reli weren’t known for diplomacy. They respected strength, not words. If Va’karr thought I was deceiving him, this alliance would be over before it began.

But there was no time to dwell on doubts.

Because the universe wasn’t waiting.

### A Moment of Peace

Back aboard the ship, the tension was thick. Tor’Vek looked like he was about to punch a bulkhead. “I still don’t trust them,” he growled. “And I sure as hell don’t trust you alone in a room with that warlord again.”

“Noted,” I said. “But for now, we need them.”

Sa’Kari watched me with her calculating gaze. “If this alliance is to hold, you will need someone to ... smooth things over.”

“Someone like you?” I asked.

She tilted her head. “Perhaps.”

Ny’Vara snorted. “Or someone a little more likable.”

I smirked. “You volunteering?”

She flicked her tail. “No, but someone has to keep you from getting yourself killed.”

That was Ny’Vara—sarcastic, sharp, but always watching my back. She was the kind of woman who’d rather take on a squad of soldiers than admit she cared. But I’d caught the way she tensed when I went on that ship. The way her golden eyes lingered on me a second too long.

I wasn’t blind.

But there was another problem.

Because Sa’Kari had been watching me too.

### The Dance of Fire and Ice

Later that night, I found myself on the observation deck, staring out into the void. The weight of everything pressed down on me. The war. The alliance. The knowledge that something worse was coming.

I didn’t hear her approach, but I felt her presence.

Sa’Kari moved like a shadow, graceful and precise. “You shouldn’t be alone with your thoughts for too long, Captain. Dangerous things grow there.”

I chuckled. “That obvious?”

She stepped closer, the soft glow of the stars reflecting in her violet eyes. “I have known warriors who carry burdens like yours. Some let them forge them into legends. Others let them crush them.”

“And which do you think I am?”

She studied me, and for the first time, the ever-controlled Narn strategist let a flicker of something else show.

“I have not decided yet,” she admitted.

I turned to face her fully. She was close now, close enough that I could see the faintest hint of warmth in her usually impassive face.

“Is that why you’ve been watching me?” I asked.

She smirked, a rare expression from her. “Among other reasons.”

The air between us was charged—something unspoken, something that had been building for weeks. But before either of us could say more, the door slid open.

Ny’Vara.

She leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, tail flicking. “Am I interrupting something?”

Sa’Kari’s expression smoothed instantly, returning to her unreadable mask. “No.”

Ny’Vara’s golden eyes flicked between us, and for the first time, I saw something flash across her face. A brief moment of something possessive.

“Good,” she said, then looked at me. “Because we just got a message from Va’karr. He wants a face-to-face meeting. And he’s bringing someone with him.”

Sa’Kari nodded. “Then we prepare.”

As she left, Ny’Vara lingered for a moment, watching me.

“You should be careful, Captain,” she said softly.

I frowned. “Of what?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “Of getting too close to people who are trained to betray.”

And then she was gone too.

I let out a long breath, staring back into the void.

I had faced war. I had faced death. But I was starting to realize...

Navigating the battlefield of the heart might be even more dangerous.