Captured by the Yandere Space Pirates-Chapter 20 -

Syn stirred awake, his senses creeping back to him through a haze of exhaustion. The room was cloaked in shadow, no clock ticking away the hours, leaving time an elusive ghost in Vera's vast bedroom. He blinked, the crimson sheets beneath him soft and unfamiliar, and turned his head to find Aster beside him, her broad frame sprawled in peaceful slumber. Her arm still curled around his waist, fingers clutching possessively even in sleep, her blonde hair fanned across the pillow like a golden tide. A faint, serene smile graced her lips, softening the fierce lines of her face—a stark contrast to the woman who'd pinned him to the wall hours ago.

He exhaled softly, careful not to rouse her, and slid his fingers beneath her hand, lifting it with a gentle precision honed by years of stealth. Her grip tightened briefly, a sleepy reflex, but he eased past it, slipping out from under her arm and replacing himself with his pillow. Aster murmured something incoherent, her fingers curling around the fabric as if it were still him, her smile unwavering. Syn held his breath, watching her for a moment, then let out a quiet sigh of relief as her steady breathing confirmed she remained lost in dreams.

Silently, he rolled off the bed, his boots whispering against the floor as he straightened, the blanket slipping from his shoulders to pool at his feet. His body ached—sore from the raid, the fights, the relentless cascade of events—but his mind churned, restless, driving him toward answers. He padded across the room, the crimson curtains swaying faintly as he passed, and slipped out the door, its soft hiss barely audible in the stillness. The corridor stretched before him, dimly lit and humming with the ship's pulse, and he turned toward the control room, his steps deliberate despite the fatigue tugging at his limbs.

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The control room greeted him with a flurry of activity—screens flickering, crew members darting between stations, their voices a low buzz of urgency. Syn paused at the threshold, taking in the chaos, his gaze drawn upward to the bridge where Vera stood alone, her silhouette stark against the glowing array of monitors. Her olive uniform clung to her, creased from a night of vigilance, and her purple hair cascaded over her shoulders, catching the light as she stared at the central screen. The Kingdom's flag blazed there, a bold emblem frozen in place—a call on hold, its silence louder than the room's clamor. Worry etched her face, her brow furrowed, her lips pressed thin, a rare crack in her usual composure.

She glanced down, her sharp eyes catching his entrance, and her expression shifted—surprise, then something warmer flickering through. "Syn!" she called, her voice cutting through the din, beckoning him with a note of relief. "Up here—come on."

He met her gaze, then climbed the stairs to the bridge, each step a quiet thud against the metal. From the elevated vantage, the control room unfolded below—a dizzying sprawl of screens and stations, every corner alive with data and motion. This was the captain's perch, a throne of oversight where Vera could survey it all at a glance, her domain laid bare. At the heart of it stood the largest screen, its paused call with the Kingdom dominating the space, a silent sentinel of tension.

"Slept well?" Vera asked, cocking her head as he reached her side. Her worried mask slipped, replaced by a smile that curved her lips, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. She stepped closer, her presence a quiet force as she closed the gap between them.

"Yeah," Syn replied, his voice rough from sleep, a faint smile tugging at his own lips. "Your bed's softer than I expected—comfy, even." The admission felt strange, a concession to the odd peace he'd found beside Aster, however fleeting.

Vera's smile widened, a spark of genuine pleasure breaking through her strain. "Good—I'm glad you liked it," she said, her tone softening as she moved in, her arms sliding around him in a gentle hug. Her hands coiled around his back, light but deliberate, her warmth seeping through his shirt.

Syn stiffened for a heartbeat, instinct urging resistance, but then relaxed, returning the embrace with a tentative lightness, his arms resting loosely around her shoulders. It was a truce, unspoken and fragile, born of exhaustion more than surrender.

Her grip tightened slightly, her head nestling against his shoulder, and when she spoke, her breath brushed his neck in a warm gust. "Can I assume you've given up on running away from us? again." Her voice was low, teasing yet edged with hope, her lips grazing his skin as she lingered there.

Syn tilted his head, considering her words, the familiar tickle of her breath stirring a faint shiver. "I don't know," he said, honest but guarded, his tone a quiet murmur that held no promises.

Vera chuckled, a throaty sound that vibrated against him. "Then I'll take that as a yes," she decided, pulling back just enough to turn her face, her lips pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. The contact was brief, a fleeting claim, and she lingered there a moment, her smile brushing his skin before she stepped back, her arms slipping away.

A sudden flicker interrupted the quiet—a secondary screen flared to life beside the Kingdom's call, Pako's face bursting into view, her features taut with worry. She stood in a control room mirroring Vera's, her short black bob framing a furrowed brow, her usual mischief dimmed by urgency. "Vera, any response yet?" she asked, her voice crackling through the speakers, a sharp edge cutting through the bustle below. "It's getting dicey out here—I think we should pull back."

Vera released Syn fully, turning to the screen with a swift, practiced calm. "Hold on," she said, her tone steadying as she leaned forward, hands bracing against the console. "The commander asked for more time to sway the King. Tell Mia to keep a sharp eye on the radar—if anything blips, get back here fast."

Pako's eyes darted, then widened as she spotted Syn behind Vera, her worry morphing into a gleeful grin. "Hey! Is that Syn? He's out? It worked—yay!" She bounced in place, clapping her hands with a childlike glee that sent her exposed cleavage jiggling, her low-cut top straining with the motion. Syn shifted uncomfortably, a nervous smile plastering itself across his face as he raised a hand in a hesitant wave, his exhaustion warring with the awkwardness of her attention.

"Hi, Syn~" Pako purred, her voice dropping into a seductive drawl as she bent forward, the screen framing a deep display of her cleavage in shameless detail. Her dark eyes glinted with mischief, locking onto him as if he were a prize she'd just spotted.

"Hi, Pako," he replied, his wave faltering as his smile stiffened, a flush of unease creeping up his neck. Her brazenness was a jolt, cutting through the fog of his fatigue with its sheer audacity.

"Hey, hey—listen," she said, straightening slightly, her tone shifting to an urgent plea as if she'd remembered something vital. "Can you do me a favor? I'll be back in, like, a three hours or so. Go to the kitchen, grab the ten-pound chocolate spread—tell someone if you can't find it—and slather yourself in it. Wait for me, okay? I'll lick you clean—oh! Oh! And there's an ice cream cone by the freezer, use it to cover your—"

*Kichk*

Vera's hand slammed down on the console, cutting the call mid-sentence, the screen blinking out to silence Pako's escalating suggestion. The control room's bustle faltered for a moment, heads turning briefly before resuming their tasks, the interruption a fleeting ripple in the chaos.