Page 35 of Accidentally Fearless

Two days after the battle, I stood in front of the Council for the second time. This time, I wasn't defending myself.

The chamber seats were full, every Council member present, and the atmosphere was unrecognizable from the hostile tension of Therak's challenge session.

Therak's seat was empty. He'd been arrested the night of the battle, found in a supply depot trying to access an emergency transport beam. The evidence Zenir had compiled was comprehensive, meticulous, and damning. His trial would come later. Right now, his empty seat was the loudest statement in the room.

Vrex stood beside me. His injuries had been treated—Velkorin healing was faster than human, and the cuts from Krenix's blade were already sealed, leaving faint silver lines across his dark scales that he wore like medals. His bioluminescence had settled into a steady warm glow that he'd stopped trying to hide.

We'd been together every moment since the battle. Not just physically—but emotionally, too. He'd held me while I slept, his larger body curled around mine, and I'd woken at dawn with his arm across my waist and his heartbeats slow against my back, and I'd thought, This. Whatever it costs, this is what I want.

"The Council has reviewed the evidence presented regarding former Councilor Therak's betrayal," the Council Chair announced. His voice carried the gravity of someone who had served on this body for decades and had never encountered a situation quite like this one. "The evidence is conclusive. Therak will face a formal tribunal."

The assembled officers and observers murmured loudly among themselves.

"Additionally," the Chair continued, "the Council has reviewed the tactical achievements of the Fourth Division under Commander Talon's leadership, with particular attention to the contributions of the external consultant, Rory Sullivan of Earth."

External consultant. Still a euphemism, but at least a warmer one than before.

"The ceremonial war has concluded. General Krenix has formally yielded all disputed territory. The valley—" The Chair paused, his expression softening. "—the valley is ours."

The room reacted. Not with cheers—Velkorin formal proceedings didn't allow for cheers, but with a collective exhale, a settling, the physical expression of three years of tension finally releasing.

Vrex's hand found mine. His grip was tight.

"In recognition of Sullivan's contributions, the Council invokes Article Seven of the Extraordinary Service Protocol." The Chair looked directly at me. "This article permits the granting of provisional citizenship to non-Velkorin individuals who have rendered exceptional service to the Velkorin people."

My lungs stopped working.

"Provisional citizenship would grant residency rights, military advisory privileges, and—" He paused again, the ghost of a smile crossing his face. "—exemption from standard immigration processing."

No six to eight months. No going back to Earth. No waiting.

"There is one condition," the Chair said. "Provisional citizenship requires a one-year residency commitment before permanent status is granted. During this period, you would be unable to return to Earth."

One year. One year away from my family, my apartment, my life. One year on an alien planet, building something entirely new.

I looked at Vrex. His amber eyes were on me. He was holding everything inside—hope, fear, the desperate desire to ask me to stay and the equally desperate refusal to pressure me.

"Can I make a video call to Earth?" I asked. "Before I decide?"

The Council Chair looked confused. "A... video call?"

"A communication. To my family. I need to tell them."

The Bureau's communications systems were, predictably, insufficient for the task. But Zenir, who had proven invaluable, had apparently been working on this problem without my knowledge, because she produced a modified comm device that could route a signal through two relay stations and reach Earth's cellular network.

I sat in my quarters with the device propped on the desk, wearing my Velkorin formal tunic, and called my sister.

Jess picked up on the third ring.

"Rory?" Her voice was tinny through the relay, but the confusion was clear. "Where are you? Your number's coming up as... I don't even know what that country code is."

"Jess. I need to talk to you. Is Mom there? Can you get Mom?"

Five minutes later, I was looking at a tiny, pixelated image of my mother and sister sitting on my mother's couch in Allentown, and I was trying to figure out how to explain that I had been abducted by aliens, fallen in love with one, and was planning to become a citizen of another planet.

I started from the beginning. They didn't interrupt, not once.

"So," I said, at the end. "I'm staying."