Page 99 of Enslak

Then she released Enslak and straightened, composing herself. The Prime returned, though something softer lingered in her expression.

"Detective Nguyen." Serna's voice turned formal. Cool. "Binwee. George. Thank you for coming."

"Lady Prime." I bowed slightly, unsure what else to do. "I know we—"

"You defied my direct orders," she interrupted. "Stole my son from medical care. Fled to an uncharted planet. Disabled tracking systems. Put yourselves in danger from Ulkommenian forces."

My heart sank. "Yes, ma'am. We did."

"Why?"

The question hung in the air.

I glanced at Binwee and George, seeing my own uncertainty reflected in their faces. Then I looked at Enslak, standing tall and whole beside me, and found my answer.

"Because he deserved a chance," I said. "Because mercy death isn't mercy if there's still hope. Because I knew—I knew—he was in there. All he needed was time and space to find his way back."

"You couldn't have known that." Serna frowned, and I suspected she was thinking of her own inability to see past the surface.

"Yes, I could." I met her eyes directly. "I saw him on Merisalle. Saw the awareness in his eyes even when he couldn't speak. Saw how he protected me, how he responded to gentleness, how he tried. Someone who fought that hard to stay alive, to protect me—he deserved more than having his head chopped off."

Silence fell over the chamber.

Then Serna moved. She crossed the distance between us and pulled me into an embrace so sudden and fierce it knocked the breath from my lungs.

"Thank you," she whispered against my hair. "Thank you for seeing what I couldn't. For believing when I'd given up. For saving my son."

I stood there, stunned, as the Alliance Prime—the most powerful being in the galaxy—cried against my shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she continued, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry I didn't fight harder. Didn't believe more. I was ready to euthanize him rather than watch him suffer, and you—you refused to accept that. You fought for him when his own mother wouldn't."

"That's not fair," I said quietly. "You were trying to spare him pain. That's not giving up. That's love."

"Is it?" She pulled back, her eyes red and raw. "Or is it cowardice? Taking the easy path instead of the hard one?"

"It's neither." Enslak's voice made us both turn. "It's grief. And guilt. And fear. I understand, Mother. I don't remember everything, but I remember enough. You thought I was dead. You mourned me. Then when you had hope again—when you found me like I was—it must have been worse than losing me the first time."

"Enslak." Serna moved to him, reaching up to cup his face. "My son. My beautiful boy. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." He covered her hands with his own. "You did what you thought was right. What you thought I would want. But Niki..." He looked at me, and the love in his eyes made my chest ache. "Niki knew better. She knew I was still fighting. She gave me the time and space to find myself again."

Serna looked between us, understanding dawning in her expression. "You bonded."

"Yes," Enslak said simply.

"Is that a problem?" I asked, suddenly nervous.

"No." Serna smiled through her tears. "No, it's perfect." She turned to me. "Do you understand what this means? What you are to him?"

"George explained some of it," I said.

George stepped forward, his expression thoughtful. "Actually, Lady Prime, if I may? I suspected the bond early on. That's why I helped Detective Nguyen escape with him."

Serna nodded for him to continue.

"When I first examined Enslak, his neural patterns were chaotic. Fragmented. The conditioning had shattered his cognitive function. But when Detective Nguyen was present, those patterns shifted. Stabilized." George looked at me with something like wonder. "At first, I thought it was simply her calming presence. But the effect was too pronounced. Too specific."

"What do you mean?" I asked.