Captured by the Yandere Space Pirates

Syn's eyes widened, his voice cutting through. "Pako! I forgot to tell you—my mission was a success. I got the proof." His heart raced, his focus shifting, the weight of his achievement a lifeline.

Vera's purple eyes lit up, her captain's coat rustling as she sat up, her voice eager. "Where? The phone from Mia?" Her hand hovered, hope surging, Syn's success a spark in the darkness.

Syn nodded, his smile faint but triumphant. "Yeah. I found the shapeshifter base. Ila was running it, her and the King, a few others." His voice steadied, his mission's truth a anchor, his trauma pushed aside for now.

"Where's the phone?" he asked, his hazel eyes flicking to Vera, urgency creeping in, his heart racing, praying that the data wasn't erased.

Vera patted her pockets, her purple hair swaying, as she pulled a sleek phone, its royal etchings glinting, and handed it to him.

Syn's fingers trembled as he unlocked the phone, its royal etchings cool under his touch, the screen flaring to life, his fingers typed the password, and voila It opened.

His heart thudded, the fear of lost data a gnawing ache, but he navigated to the video gallery, and there it was—the video he'd risked everything for, its thumbnail a glimpse of the shapeshifter base.

He exhaled, relief flooding him, his hazel eyes bright.

"See. I have caught them."

He handed the phone over, Vera's purple eyes widening, the captain's coat rustling as she took it, her curvaceous frame leaning closer.

Pako hopped beside her, hair swaying, tanned skin catching the light, expressive eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"Show me!" she said, her voice laced with excitement, her petite frame pressing against an arm, her warmth a contrast to the room's antiseptic chill.

They played the video, the screen casting a pale glow, revealing shapeshifters in white, dull clothes, their eyes pure white, their green, scaly skin glinting under harsh lights, their movements mechanical, controlled, dull, as if they had given up on life.

Syn had recorded every detail—the base's layout, the Kingdom's insignia, the shapeshifters—perfect, undeniable proof.

Vera's eyes blazed with triumph, her voice a low, fierce cheer. "Syn, you did it! This is it, the nail in the Kingdom's coffin!" Her curvaceous frame vibrated with pride as she gripped the phone, her love for Syn a quiet undercurrent in her praise., "You have really did what you promised even though it was a very far shot."

Pako squealed, tanned hands clapping, expressive eyes sparkling. "Holy stars, Syn, you're incredible!" she said, her sultry tone warm, her petite frame bouncing, her love a playful spark. "This video's gonna burn the King's throne to ash. You're our hero! The Kingdom's hero" She leaned over, hair brushing his shoulder, her touch lingering, her grin infectious.

Syn tried a faint smirk, his battered body aching, his hazel eyes tired but proud. "I was lucky, honestly," he said, his voice soft, the smirk faltering under the weight of his trauma, Ila's shadow still lurking in his mind.

Vera's eyes locked on his, her voice firm. "We've got the proof of shapeshifter's existence now. No more delays. We take this to the Interstellar Station Governance Alliance (ISGA). The King's done—dethroned, exposed." Her curvaceous frame was a pillar, her resolve a blade.

"Yay!" Pako jumped, tanned legs flashing, hair swaying, her glee a burst of light in the medic room, expressive eyes dancing, her love a vibrant thread tying her to Syn. "We're gonna watch that smug bastard crash and burn!"

Vera's hair caught the light, her voice sharp.

"It'll take two days, max, to reach the ISGA. Sending it risks Kingdom rats intercepting. We go in person, make sure it sticks." she put the phone back into her pocket, her purple eyes fierce.

Syn leaned back, his body heavy, his hazel eyes dimming, exhaustion creeping in.

"Do it," he said, his voice low, his trauma a quiet weight. "I'm… tired. I need to rest for a bit."

His hand brushed the bandages on his thigh, his mind craving the dark of sleep, away from Ila's ghost.

Vera's purple eyes softened, her curvaceous frame bending as she kissed his forehead, her lips warm, her love a gentle anchor.

"Rest up, Syn," she murmured, her voice a promise of safety, her touch lingering.

Pako leaned in, tanned lips grazing his cheek, hair tickling his skin, expressive eyes warm, her sultry warmth a comfort.

"Good night, hero," she whispered, her hand squeezing his, her love a playful vow, her touch a spark of home.

"Good night," they said in unison, fading as the door hissed shut, leaving Syn alone, the medic room's hum a lullaby.

He took deep breaths, his chest rising, his hazel eyes closing, sleep pulling him under. He felt relieved after a long long time.

Syn woke up after a while.

The medic room was dim, the ventilator's hiss steady, Mia's heartbeat stronger, its beeping stable, a green glow on the screen.

He sat up, wincing, his thigh wound protesting, and carefully removed the tubesfrom his arm, the adhesive tugging his skin.

He shuffled to Mia's bed, his bare feet cold on the metal floor, his medical gown loose, his hazel eyes tracing her face.

She wore the beautiful features of the maid he'd once had a hardcore crush on, her white hair soft, her pale skin smooth, her shapeshifter nature a revelation.

Was the maid always a shapeshifter?

The thought twisted in his mind, but, her sacrifice for him was a debt he couldn't ignore.

He sat beside her, his hand caressing her cheek, her skin warm, her face so cute, so vulnerable under the bandages.

"You're still you," he murmured, his hazel eyes soft, his touch gentle, his heart warmed by her presence, her survival.

beep beep beep beep

But as his fingers brushed her cheek, the monitor beeped faster, her pulse spiking, though her face remained still, her eyes closed.

Syn's lips quirked, realization dawning—she was awake, pretending to sleep, dodging an uncomfortable talk, her flush betraying her.

"Thanks, Mia, for saving my life," he said, his voice warm, his hazel eyes steady, his hand lingering on her cheek, his gratitude raw, his debt to her a quiet vow.

Mia's eyes fluttered open, half-embarrassed, her cheeks flushing, "You're welcome," she said, her voice soft, her gaze darting away, her embarrassment cute, her vulnerability tugging at Syn's heart.

"How do you feel?" he asked, his hand resting on the bed, his hazel eyes searching, his concern genuine, his memory of her plasma-riddled body vivid, her blue blood a stark image.

"I'm okay," she said, her voice stronger, her eyes meeting his, a faint smile curving her lips, her flush deepening.

"Just… sore. Healing, though. Faster than you, apparently." Her tone was a feeble attempt of teasing.

Syn chuckled, his hazel eyes crinkling, his hand brushing hers, careful of her bandages.

"Good to know you're tougher than me," he said, his voice playful.

"Why'd you do it, Mia? Risk everything for me?" His question was gentle.

Mia's flush deepened, her pale eyes flickering, her voice low.

"You're… worth it, Syn." she said, her words halting, her shapeshifter nature making her honesty raw, her feelings bare. "I couldn't let Ila take you. Not anyone." Her hand twitched, wanting to reach for him, but her bandages held her back, her eyes pleading, her heart open.

Syn's chest tightened, her words a weight, his hazel eyes softening, his hand squeezing hers gently, his gratitude deepening.

"I owe you, Mia," he said, his voice low, his trauma a shadow, her sacrifice a light. "Get better, okay? We've got a lot to talk about."

His smile was warm, his crush stirring, her shapeshifter truth a puzzle he'd unravel later.

Mia nodded, her pale eyes glistening, her smile shy, her flush a soft blue, her shapeshifter face adorable.

"Deal," she said, her voice soft, her heart racing under his touch, her feelings a quiet confession.

"Take some rest," Syn said, standing, his medical gown shifting, his hazel eyes warm, his body aching but lighter.

"I'm going." He turned, his steps slow, his thigh wound a dull throb.

But a tug stopped him—Mia's bandaged arm, her grip weak but firm, pulling his hand.

"Mia, easy," he said, gently placing her arm back on the bed, his eyes concerned, his touch careful, her fragility a reminder of her wounds.

"Syn," she said, her voice small, her eyes pleading, her face vulnerable, her flush deepening, her heart bare.

"I've never asked..., never touched you, but… this one time, can you sleep beside me?" Her words were a whisper, her bandages stark, her eyes searching his, her feelings a quiet storm.

Syn paused, his hazel eyes softening, her plea tugging at his heart, her injuries a barrier.

"Once you've recovered," he said, his voice gentle.

"I feel fine now," Mia said, her voice firmer.

She shifted, wincing, to the bed's edge, leaving space, her bandages stark, her invitation clear, her heart open.

Syn hesitated, then nodded.

He eased onto the bed, careful not to jostle her arm or leg, his medical gown brushing her bandages, his body tense.

He settled beside her, his arm resting lightly, his hazel eyes tracing her face, her cute features a comfort.

"Comfortable?" he asked, his voice soft.

Mia nodded.

Her bandaged hand grazed his chest, resting there, his heartbeat echoing to her palm, her touch a milestone, a connection after so long.

"Very," she whispered, her eyes locked on his.

"Now sleep," Syn said, his voice gentle.

Mia shook her head, her pale eyes flickering, unease creeping in, her flush fading, her face tense.

"What's wrong?" Syn asked, his eyes narrowing.

"I need to tell you, Syn," she said, her voice low, her eyes pinned on Syn's "About who I am."