17 Campaigns. She Never Needed Help. Until Him. | HFY Romance

The Human Healed a Wounded Stranger She Was the Galaxy's Greatest Warrior Seventeen documented combat campaigns. Zero personnel losses. The Vorrkan Dominion's number one operational priority. Sergeant Rylan Doss found her in a corridor with eight of the twelve-person strike team already resolved and a plasma burn on her right thigh that his field medicine brain immediately classified as serious-but-manageable. "May I?" he said, holding up his kit. She assessed him with the eyes of someone whose assessment methodology had been refined across seventeen campaigns. Then: "Proceed." He warned her about the sting. She told him she had survived a Keth siege for eleven days without medical support. He applied the compound anyway. "So that's a yes on the fair warning. Good to know." When the four remaining operatives came back at the twelve-minute mark, he stood and positioned himself between her and the corridor. "You don't have to—" "You can't put weight on that leg yet. Four more minutes. Just four minutes." Her bioluminescent arm markings brightened where he had touched her. She was aware of this. She chose not to address it directly. When he gave her his comm frequency, it was because she asked. When she told him she wanted a Coalition liaison for the Collective's next rotation, her amber-gold eyes were doing two things at once and she was not going to clarify which one she considered more important. "Six weeks," she confirmed. His team leader watched her disappear around the corner and said: "Did she just—" "Yes," Rylan said. "And you gave her your—" "Yes." "Six weeks is not very long." "No," Rylan said. "It isn't." 🔔 Subscribe for weekly HFY Romance stories 👍 Like if the three-yes exchange at the end got you 💬 Comment: "Just four minutes." — best line? #hfy #hfystories #hfyromance #scifi #scifishortstory