Time stretched thin, then the wormhole spat us out the other side.

More than one sigh of relief filled the air as I scanned Starlight’s sensor data. Lotkez was just ahead of us, outside the danger zone, and there were a handful of ships within sensor range, but only one registered as military.

Of course, it was a huge, heavily armed battleship, so one was plenty.

No one hailed us as we moved out of the danger zone. The battleship didn’t target us, or even subject us to a sensor sweep. We headed deeper into Valovian space unchallenged.

The knot in my stomach unclenched.

We weren’t in the clear, exactly, because there could still be a trap waiting for us on Valovia, but we’d overcome the first challenge. At least tomorrow’s final traversal was at a more reasonable midmorning hour. Maybe I could get enough sleep for once.

The bridge began to empty now that the wormhole was behind us. The Valoffs appeared more relaxed. Being back in friendly territory was probably a relief for them, but I wouldn’t completely relax until we’d safely returned to FHP-controlled space. I might not love the Feds—huge, huge understatement—but I’d still take human space over Valovian.

“You want me to stay?” Eli asked over the comm.

I’d been so lost in thought that I hadn’t realized everyone except Eli and Torran had left the bridge. Even Luna had wandered off, likely in search of a sucker she could con into feeding her a second breakfast.

“No, go on. I will be okay. I’m planning to monitor for a bit, just to ensure we’re in the clear, then I’m going to help Anja with maintenance.”

“Shout if you need anything,” he said as he stood. Then he left the bridge, leaving me alone with Torran.

I’d known that avoiding Torran on a ship of Starlight’s size would be impossible, but I’d hoped to be a little more successful than this. I could order him to leave, but that would reveal far more than ignoring him.

If only he weren’t so difficult to ignore.

My eyes kept sliding his way, so it was only a matter of time before he caught me looking. He held my stare for a moment before rising and approaching. He placed a small, rectangular black box on the corner of my terminal, then stepped back.

“I am sorry about yesterday,” he said quietly. “You asked for my help, and I failed.” His mouth flattened. “Then I let emotion override courtesy and caused you greater pain. Please forgive me.”

Of all the things I’d expected, an apology wasn’t even on the list. I blinked at him for a second before glancing at the box. “What is this?”

“It is vosdodite, an apology gift.”