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Braca stepped onto the command carrier’s bridge; the hum of engines was low vibration beneath his boots. It all seemed quite at the moment, the bridge crew absorbed in their duties. His eyes flicked to the corridor leading to Scorpius’s office he could just see a hint of the inner door slightly ajar, a rare lapse in the officer’s normally meticulous discipline. He took a few measured strides into the office glancing around, Scorpius was absent at the moment but on the edge of the desk, a data slate blinked insistently, bearing the official seal of Peacekeeper High Command. Braca approached, hesitating, Scorpius rarely held information back from him, but he still hesitated for a moment. Something felt off, his chest felt oddly tight. He puffed out a breath through his nose and then activated it.
The words scrolled cold and final, "Subject Meeklo Braca, products of Breeding Initiative 9-X7, has been deemed a genetic inefficiency. Termination and deletion of all records ordered."
Braca’s stomach lurched. His hands shook. “This… this…What?”
A click behind him from the open doorway made him whirl. Scorpius stood in the doorway, expression rigid, eyes calculating.
“I see you found it,” Scorpius said, his voice sharp and measured. “I left it out for you to see.”
Braca staggered back a step. “Left it out? Sir… they want me dead, terminated as a failed experiment!”
Scorpius’s gaze hardened, cold, unflinching. “Yes. And for a moment, I considered following the order.”
Braca’s blood ran cold. “You… you what?”
“I did” Scorpius said flatly, stepping closer. “It would have been efficient. Clean. No risk, no attachment. That’s what High Command expects. But…” His eyes softened, a flicker of something dangerous but tender appearing. “…I couldn’t. Not you.”
Braca’s shock made him stumble. His voice was barely audible. “You… you almost let them kill me?”
Scorpius’s hands found Braca’s shoulders, steadying him. “Almost. That’s all you ever were to them, an experiment, a weapon on an assembly line. A number they thought they could erase when you outlived your usefulness. But they failed. They couldn’t control you, couldn’t break you. Because people like you and me were made to outlast them. You are not expendable. Not to me.”
Braca’s chest heaved, still reeling from disbelief, from the harsh reality and from the rare glimpse into Scorpius’s mind.
Then Scorpius grabbed Braca’s face in his hands, the harshness giving way to a precise, firm intimacy. He pressed a kiss to Braca’s forehead, lingering just long enough to send a silent promise, you will not be erased.
“Not a product. Not a number,” Scorpius murmured, almost growling, eyes locking on Braca’s. “Do you understand me?”
Braca’s shock gave way to something steadier, a resolve sparked by both fear and trust. The world had turned upside down in a heartbeat, but Scorpius had chosen him. And that choice was everything.