Chapter 38: Taking a Break

After Kharok’s execution, Vykhor remained still for a moment, staring at the stream of data scrolling across the Narak’Tharr’s screen without really seeing it. A deep silence had settled in the command cabin, disturbed only by the hum of the ship’s systems. Yet, inside his mind, his thoughts were running wild.

The mission on Drakar IV had been a success. But at what cost?

He thought of Evelyn. Of everything she had endured in such a short time. The battles, the wounds, Kharok’s betrayal, the discovery of the Ashcroft Project file. It was more than most hardened mercenaries could have handled. And yet, she had stood tall, kept moving forward, refusing to crumble under the weight of a past that was resurfacing with brutal intensity. But her hypermnestic mind wouldn’t allow her to forget.

She could pretend—smiling, joking with Skye and Rax, losing herself in endless conversations with Kryna—but Vykhor knew. He saw what others didn’t.

The shadows in her gaze when she thought no one was looking.

The Kael’tarien exhaled deeply, running a hand over his face. He wasn’t the type to worry about others. Looking after someone else's well-being? That wasn’t in his nature. He was a warrior, a mercenary. He made pragmatic decisions, dictated by logic and necessity, not by emotional considerations.

And yet...

For her, he had to make an effort.

She was too important. Too precious. His.

Then, a memory surfaced.

During a past mission, he had heard rumors in a passing conversation. Iskaara. A remote planet, hidden from trade routes and political conflicts. A world known only to a handful of trusted explorers and mercenaries.

A perfect place for Evelyn.

Bioluminescent oceans stretching as far as the eye could see, illuminated by strange creatures glowing with unreal colors. Crystal forests shifting hues with the cosmic winds. Black sand beaches shimmering under the silver light of its twin moons.

Far from schemes. Far from threats.

Vykhor stared at the screen in front of him.

He couldn’t erase Evelyn’s past. He couldn’t offer her a life without danger.

But he could give her a moment. A respite.

He stood up abruptly and left the command cabin. It was time to set a new course.

Iskaara awaited them.

Vykhor found Evelyn in the common room, deep in an animated conversation with Kryna. The AI was projecting intricate holograms in front of her, and Evelyn, utterly absorbed, analyzed every detail with that sharp intensity that defined her. She looked entirely in her element, momentarily forgetting the harsh reality of their world, losing herself in the endless knowledge she absorbed so effortlessly.

Vykhor stood still at the entrance, watching her in silence. His gaze lingered on the elegant curve of her neck as she tilted her head slightly to better see a holographic diagram. His mind drifted back to a recent memory—that infamous linguistic mistake of hers.

A poorly worded statement that had sent him into a state of desire and anticipation, awakening something in him he hadn’t felt in a long time. He remembered the heat in his veins, the electrifying tension between them. Evelyn still didn’t realize what she meant to him. Not completely.

But he wouldn’t be able to hide it from her forever.

Maybe their stay on Iskaara would be the opportunity he had been waiting for.

Straightening up, he broke the silence with his deep voice.

"Evelyn."

She immediately lifted her head, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. She gave him that warm, effortless smile he was beginning to like more than he should.

"Vykhor," she greeted, her tone naturally affectionate. "What’s going on?"

Vykhor crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe with his usual composed demeanor.

"I think we need a break after Drakar IV." He paused briefly before adding, "I’ve set our course for Iskaara. It’s a place where we can unwind… and one I think you’ll enjoy."

Evelyn blinked, visibly intrigued. He didn’t need telepathy to know she was about to ask Kryna for more details.

He saw her take a breath, and the faintest flicker of a mischievous smile appeared. He knew her by heart. He knew she was about to dig for information before she even spoke.

"No, Evelyn," he cut in, amusement lacing his tone before she could open her mouth. "You’re not asking Kryna anything."

Evelyn narrowed her eyes slightly, but Vykhor didn’t give her a chance to argue.

"It needs to be a surprise for you to fully appreciate the experience." He turned toward the holographic interface where Kryna was patiently waiting. "Kryna, you are not to give Evelyn any information about Iskaara. That’s an order."

"Understood, Captain," the AI responded in a neutral tone.

Evelyn crossed her arms, eyeing him suspiciously.

"You’re hiding something."

Vykhor raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning slightly provocative.

"Maybe."

Evelyn stared at him intently, trying to break through his impenetrable mask. But he knew he wouldn’t give in.

This trip was going to be a turning point. He was sure of it.

As soon as Vykhor left the common room, Evelyn bit her lip, deep in thought. Did he really think she was just going to sit patiently and wait for their arrival without trying to find out more?

He didn’t know her well enough.

Or rather… he knew her too well.

Her gaze shifted toward the holographic interface where Kryna was waiting silently, as if the AI itself already knew what she was about to attempt.

"Kryna," Evelyn began in a light, almost innocent tone, "I’d like to talk about Iskaara."

"Apologies, Evelyn. Captain Vykhor has given me a direct order not to reveal anything on the subject."

Evelyn crossed her arms. Of course. She had expected this.

But she was clever.

"I understand," she said, tilting her head slightly as if conceding. "Then… let’s talk about something else."

She casually tapped on the interface. "If I were to ask for information on planets that, let’s say, have multiple moons or bioluminescent oceans… that would be a general inquiry, right?"

Evelyn had always dreamed of seeing bioluminescent oceans, teeming with glowing organisms.

A brief silence.

"That is correct."

Evelyn smirked. She was so close.

"Great. Can you provide me with a list of such planets?"

Immediately, Kryna displayed a screen with multiple names and descriptions. Evelyn leaned forward, scanning the list for a planet that might match Iskaara.

But before she could analyze the data, the screen glitched, and the text vanished.

"Oh, come on, no, no, no, this can’t be happening—" Evelyn groaned as the system locked itself down right before her eyes.

"Apologies, Evelyn," Kryna said, her tone almost… amused. "Any search that could indirectly lead you to information on Iskaara is also restricted."

Evelyn exhaled slowly. Alright. She had to admit, Vykhor was thorough.

But she wasn’t about to give up.

She straightened up, thinking fast. "Fine. Then let’s say I ask you a purely hypothetical question…"

Kryna remained silent for a moment, then responded:

"Hypothetically speaking, if your question pertains to Iskaara, I will be unable to answer."

Evelyn pressed her fingers to her temples. Vykhor had locked down every possible loophole.

And that was when she heard it—a quiet, amused exhale.

She turned slowly, already knowing what she was going to see.

Vykhor stood leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, a smirk playing at his lips.

"I knew you wouldn’t last."

Evelyn straightened, trying to maintain her dignity despite her colossal failure.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Vykhor arched a brow, the flicker of mockery gleaming in his golden eyes.

"Really? Then why did Kryna just send me a detailed report of all your attempts to bypass my order?"

Evelyn shot a murderous glare at the interface. "Kryna, seriously?"

"Apologies, Evelyn," the AI replied, almost mimicking a fake remorseful tone. "But betraying Vykhor was never part of my programming."

Vykhor shook his head slowly, clearly entertained. He stepped forward, placing a hand on the armrest of Evelyn’s chair, leaning slightly toward her.

"You’re persistent, I’ll give you that."

Evelyn lifted her chin, refusing to admit defeat.

"I’ll find out eventually, Vykhor."

His smirk deepened, amusement still evident. "Maybe. But not today."

Then, before she could retort, he straightened and walked off, leaving the room with his usual calculated nonchalance.

Evelyn sighed, glaring at Kryna’s interface.

"Traitor."

For the next two days, Evelyn stubbornly refused to back down. If Vykhor thought she was just going to wait obediently, he was sorely mistaken.

She tried every possible trick to extract even the smallest clue about Iskaara.

First, she targeted Kryna, the ship’s AI. She reworded her questions cleverly, feigned innocence, and even pretended to run technical diagnostics—but every time, she hit the same wall.

"Apologies, Evelyn, but my access to data regarding Iskaara is restricted. Direct order from Vykhor."

Evelyn narrowed her eyes. "Kryna, you and I have a bond of trust, don’t we?"

"That is correct," the AI acknowledged, her voice soft and steady.

"Then don’t you think hiding information from me is a violation of that trust?"

A pause. Then, flatly:

"I think you’re trying to manipulate me, Evelyn."

Evelyn slumped back in her seat with a groan of frustration.

She wasn’t done yet.

She switched targets. This time, Vykhor himself.

During meals, she casually slipped innocent questions between bites. While they worked together in the control room, she threw out random theories, hoping he would accidentally confirm one of them.

But Vykhor, ever himself, never took the bait.

"Vykhor, is this planet warm?"
"Maybe."

"Does it have mountains?"
"Who knows."

"You are unbearable."

Vykhor only responded with a small, infuriating smirk.

Evelyn tried again and again, but it was useless. The Kael’tarien was unshakable, and the more she pressed, the more entertained he seemed.

The worst part? She knew he was enjoying this.

When she caught him watching her out of the corner of his eye, the shadow of a smile playing on his lips, she felt a wave of frustration rise.

"One day, I’ll find your weakness, Kael’tarien," she muttered after yet another failed attempt.

Vykhor looked amused. "I doubt that day will ever come."

Without another word, he left the room, leaving her fuming alone.

And yet… despite her irritation, Evelyn had to admit—this waiting game was making the reveal even more exciting.

So, when the Narak’Tharr finally pierced Iskaara’s atmosphere, a shiver of anticipation ran through Evelyn.

And when they finally landed near a secluded beach, her frustration vanished instantly.

Before her stretched a breathtaking, surreal landscape.

Glowing waves shimmered in the night, their bioluminescent glow casting an ethereal silver-blue light. The gentle breeze carried exotic scents—a blend of saltwater and night-blooming flowers with translucent petals that seemed to drink in the twin moons' light.

Evelyn inhaled deeply, awestruck.

At her side, Vykhor watched her reaction with quiet satisfaction.

"Well?" he finally asked, arms crossed.

She cast him a side glance, shaking her head—half annoyed, half amazed.

"You’re unbearable, Kael’tarien."

Vykhor didn’t respond, but the smirk playing at his lips said it all.

Ever true to his silent nature, he let Evelyn explore at her own pace, never interrupting. He watched her, his piercing gaze tracking her every movement. He noticed the subtle way her shoulders finally relaxed after days of accumulated tension, after the relentless adrenaline rush of their mission.

He had seen her fight with fierce determination, outrun relentless enemies, and display a level of courage that would have broken even seasoned mercenaries. He had seen her push herself beyond her limits, calculate every move with surgical precision, and adapt with an uncanny speed.

But here… here, she was simply herself.

Not a target.
Not a scientist being hunted for her knowledge.
Not a strategic ally.

Just Evelyn, an explorer captivated by a new world, absorbing its beauty with an almost childlike wonder.

As she wandered further to admire the bioluminescence dancing on the waves, Vykhor set up a simple, efficient camp, just as he always did. He activated a wind-shielding device around the fire, making sure it wouldn’t be visible from miles away. His movements were methodical, precise, guided by years of experience.

A little while later, he found Evelyn sitting by the water’s edge, her feet submerged in the warm, glowing waves. She was tracing delicate circles in the phosphorescent black sand, watching them with quiet fascination.

Vykhor approached without a sound and sat down beside her. No words were exchanged. Silence between them had never been uncomfortable.

Minutes passed, their rhythm set by the tide, the soft rustling of the crystalline trees further down the shore.

Finally, Evelyn glanced up at him, a light smile tugging at her lips. “I never would’ve pegged you as someone who’d enjoy a place like this.”

One brow arched, Vykhor studied her before answering in his usual deadpan tone. “I enjoy places where no one is hunting us.”

She chuckled softly, amused by his response. “So it’s more strategic than aesthetic.”

He let the silence stretch for a moment before tilting his head slightly. “A bit of both.”

And in that moment, as they sat together on this lost planet, surrounded by a nature untouched by conflict, he wondered if he had chosen this place just as much for himself as he had for her.