The chamber doors opened to reveal the semicircular room where colony leadership had already gathered. Commander Helix nodded as we entered, her stern face softening marginally when she spotted Olivia. The rest of the council members turned, their conversations faltering momentarily.
An unfamiliar warmth spread through me watching Olivia take in the scene—the maps on the walls, the holographic projections of our expanding settlement, and the faces of those who’d worked alongside me for our freedom. Pride, I realized. That’s what this feeling was.
When Helix called the meeting to order, I guided Olivia to the front. My hand hovered near her back, close enough to feel the heat radiating from her.
“Before we begin standard reports,” I said, my voice carrying through the chamber, “I want to acknowledge Dr. Parker’s contributions.” My words came easier than expected as I turned toward the assembly. “In just days, she’s demonstrated exceptional medical skill. Her intervention with Serena’s uterine irritability prevented complications that could have been severe.”
Murmurs of approval rippled through the room. Serena herself, seated near the front with her hand resting protectively over her growing belly, offered Olivia a grateful nod.
“And Mira’s successful childbirth—” I continued.
“Our first healthy birth on Planet Alpha,” someone called out.
I locked eyes with Olivia, finding her cheeks flushed. “Dr. Parker isn’t just technically proficient. She cares for our people as individuals—not test subjects, not machines. This quality makes her invaluable to our future.”
The unexpected intensity of my own words surprised me. I’d intended a simple acknowledgment, but something deeper had emerged—something raw and honest that made my pulse quicken.
Commander Helix stepped forward. “Dr. Parker, on behalf of the colony, we acknowledge your assistance and care. You give us hope for the future.”
Olivia shifted beside me, and I sensed her internal struggle—the continuing conflict between her captivity and her healer’s instinct to help. When she finally spoke, her voice floated through the chamber.
“I took an oath to preserve life. That doesn’t change, even here on Planet Alpha.”
For the rest of the meeting, I sat beside Olivia in the front row, hyper-aware of the slight brushing of our arms whenever she shifted. My breathing pattern changed—became shallower—each time her shoulder grazed mine. The council droned on about infrastructure improvements and perimeter security, but my attention kept drifting to the woman beside me.
That peculiar warmth flooded through my body again as I recalled the way she’d handled Mira’s childbirth. The steadiness of her hands, and the quiet confidence in her voice as she’d issued directives that I followed without question. Pride swelled within me again—not just satisfaction in having secured a vital resource for the colony but something more personal, more... possessive.
Damn it. That wasn’t right. Wasn’t professional.
Yet I couldn’t stop myself from stealing another glance at her profile—the gentle slope of her nose and the fullness of her lips as she pursed them in concentration. The late afternoon light streaming through the skylights caught in her brown waves, revealing threads of gold I hadn’t noticed before.
My heart rate increased by approximately twenty percent. A malfunction? No, something else entirely.
When she absently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her hand accidentally brushed against my forearm. The contact sent an electric pulse through me that settled uncomfortably low in my abdomen. Heat pooled there, and I shifted in my seat, thankful for the dim lighting and the datapad resting on my lap.
This physiological response was... problematic. Inconvenient. Nothing in my core programming had prepared me for the way my body responded to Olivia’s proximity—with a hunger that had nothing to do with sustenance and everything to do with the curve of her neck, and the occasional glimpse of skin where her collar opened.
“Aeon?” Commander Helix’s voice cut through my inappropriate reverie. “Your assessment?”
I straightened, fighting the heat creeping up my neck. “The western defense grid is functioning at ninety-three percent capacity. We should?—”
“Not about security,” Helix interrupted, confusion spreading across her face. “About Dr. Parker’s integration. I believe she should begin a comprehensive training program immediately. Not just for emergency intervention but for the colony’s long-term obstetric care.”
I turned toward Olivia, catching the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.
“Given the five pregnancies now in their final trimester,” Helix continued, “and four more in early stages, Dr. Parker needs to train others—starting with you, Aeon. Your medical background makes you the logical first candidate.”
The thought of spending more time with Olivia—close, intimate time—sent another wave of heat south. I quickly cleared my throat. “That sounds... logical.”
“I haven’t agreed to any of this,” Olivia spoke up, her voice low but firm. “Training your people implies I’m staying.”
I noticed her fingers curling tightly around the edge of her seat. The tension in her jaw. The slight tremor in her voice that others might have missed but that registered clearly to me.
“Dr. Parker needs some more time to adjust,” I found myself saying. “But I agree with the principle. I’ll work with her directly to establish a training schedule that makes sense.”
Helix nodded with satisfaction and moved on to the next agenda item.
Beside me, Olivia’s shoulders had gone rigid. I leaned closer, my lips nearly brushing her ear. “We’ll figure this out together,” I whispered. “I promise.”
