The explosion had been terrible, so violent that he had been projected to the other side of the room, smashing against the wall before falling back down. His head had hit the floor so hard that he was completely stunned. He had no notion of what was going on around him, a shrill sound was coming through his ears, his body was not responding.

"KARL!"

A scream in the distance, a silhouette beside him, a hand on his trembling body. He was having trouble breathing. The silhouette came to caress his cheek, called out to him again, the hoarse voice close to crying:

"Karl... we did it... you did it...!"

The injured man tried to stay awake, but it was difficult. He couldn't even respond, and his comrade worried to see him in this state, worried to lose him so close to the goal.

"Don't do this to me, stay with me! We're going to take care of you! I beg you!

- ...Reg..." the only word he was able to answer.

The silhouette hugged him, unable to hold his sobs any longer:

"W-We won... Terrence is dead... s-so stay with me... stay with me... stay with me...!"

But he fell into the cold darkness, the heavy silence.

He felt that he was being shaken, but what really pulled him out of his sleep were the anxious calls of a familiar voice:

"Chief! Chief, wake up! Chief!"

The person had been calling him for a few minutes already, having started whispering, but now he was almost screaming, his throat tied. RHM opened his eyes, encountering darkness for a moment before his cybernetic eye switched on and scanned the room. He was in his bedroom in the orbital station in the middle of the night ... with Sven.

His young partner fell silent when he saw the cybernetic eye emitting a light. He seemed relieved to see him awake, something his superior didn't understand. There was a short silence, during which RHM stood up, passing a hand over his face as he tried to make full contact with reality. He looked at Sven again, who was still watching him, but what left the boss speechless were the tears he saw in the blond man's eyes.

"... What's going on...?" he asked in a slightly hoarse voice.

Sven gasped slightly, not expecting him to speak to him, and suddenly he felt completely confused, hesitant, because he had never had the opportunity to talk to his boss while they were still in bed. However, he stammered, still worried:

"...you seemed to be having a nightmare...". "

RHM didn't hide his stupor. A nightmare, him? It hadn't happened to him for a long time... He already couldn't remember what he had dreamt, but it was true that he had this strange feeling in his stomach, this stifled fear that he didn't know the cause of.

Sven was surprised to see how well he was doing with his disorder. Usually his boss was in control of his emotions, it was difficult to see him in a weak position, so seeing him with such a fragile look gripped his heart. He turned around, reaching for the water bottle at the bottom of the bed, then returned to his superior, naturally sticking to his arm while holding the bottle out to him.

The older man took it, shivering when he felt Sven's naked skin against him. He had already had the opportunity to touch this pale and terribly soft skin many times before. Sven was soft from all points of view. His skin, his voice, his look... even when he was annoyed or angry he remained soft. He wasn't the kind of imposing person whose personality crushed others.

A bit like Reginald.

RHM looked at the bottle without really seeing it. Reginald had been the chef for a long time, but despite his pretentious attitude he was still a gentle chief. When he was angry he wasn't scary, probably because unlike Terrence he wasn't a tyrant who would kill someone at the slightest annoyance. To tell the truth, Reginald was the opposite of Terrence: he preferred to avoid conflict, to solve problems by fleeing. Many called him a coward because of that, but RHM liked that attitude, it was always better than a leader who stupidly threw himself into battle without thinking about the risks.

RHM was out of his mind when Sven's hand was placed on his and his gentle, hesitant voice was raised:

"You should drink a little... it would make you feel better..."

The cyborg nodded his head and opened the bottle, taking a few sips before sighing, closing his eyes and feeling a bit more calm. He took a breath and then looked at the younger one again. With his left arm clutched to Sven, RHM used his right arm - the metal arm - to come and stroke his partner's blond hair.

He saw Sven shiver and close his eyes before he came to rub himself against the hand, looking for a caress. The cyborg smiled, amused to see him act like a small animal in need of affection.

It wasn't the first time he had made the remark. Since he had known Sven for several years, he had already noticed how Sven could be receptive to the slightest attention. The way his eyes sparkled when you complimented him, his jumps when you touched him, his habit of prolonged contact, his embarrassment that came so quickly that he never knew how to react when you were kind to him.

He didn't know what kind of education the blond guy may have had, but he just seemed to like the attention very much. But it wasn't a desire to get attention like people who are too self-absorbed, it wasn't a desire to be a star, to be famous. It was more of a shy desire, a desire to receive love, and not just to receive curious and admiring glances.

RHM continued to pet the blonde hair while he thought about it. If his relationship with Sven had evolved this way, it was because the blonde was very receptive. Right wasn't a very sociable and talkative person, he wasn't comfortable with the idea of flirting with strangers or even just co-workers. The only person with whom he allowed himself to be a bit of a gambler was Reginald, because they knew each other well, as they had a very developed relationship.

When Reginald disappeared suddenly, kidnapped by the government, RHM didn't know what to do. From that day on, there was only an immense emptiness in him, an emptiness that was growing, like a black hole trying to swallow him up. He had lost that comforting warmth, that source of support that he had had with him over the past few years. And beyond the lack, there was the pain, the guilt, the terrible thought that he had been weak, that he had been unable to protect his leader, his friend, his lover.

"...Chief...?"

Sven's voice brought him back to reality one more time. RHM crossed his worried blue eyes again, and that's what made him realize that he had tensed up and stopped stroking the blond hair.

Sven was his lifesaver. He didn't talk unnecessarily, always went straight to the point, did an impeccable job. And most importantly, as RHM had said... Sven was gentle and receptive. He had, gradually, known how to get closer to him, by contacts always more pushed. Contacts that had evolved all the way to the bedroom. And Sven didn't brag about it, no he didn't brag about having "the chief of the Toppats" in his bed. He hadn't considered RHM as a trophy but as a real lover. He was understanding, not a toxic person who forced him to have sex whenever he wanted.

And suddenly the cyborg froze. No, Sven never asked for sex. On the contrary, it was always RHM who made the first step, who would come to kiss him, caress him, and finally drag him into his office or bedroom.

The youngest didn't feel forced, did he? He always seemed to like what was going on between them... If he was against it, he would have told him, pushed him away of course.

But now this doubt had crept into the older man's mind.

"...Sven?"

As he called out, he looked at him with big eyes while blushing, surprised to hear his name so suddenly, especially pronounced in such a way by his leader.

"...y-yes...?" he stammered.

- ... You have the right to push me away. Even if I am your leader, I don't want to force you to do what you don't want."

Sven seemed even more surprised, even confused, and answered almost immediately:

"You don't force me to do anything!"

RHM felt him clench his arm harder, and this time he was surprised to see the youngest becoming livid:

"Really, really you don't force me, I do it because I want to! S-So..."

Sven lowered his eyes when he realized that he had raised his voice, suddenly finding himself embarrassed, his voice becoming weaker:

"...so...please don't say that anymore..."

The chief looked at him for a few more moments, then returned to caress his hair. But then his hand slipped to come and graze his cheek, before he put his fingers under his chin to push him to raise his face and smile softly:

"... Okay, I won't say it again."

He came to kiss him tenderly, and was delighted to feel his young lover respond while huddling closer to him.

RHM didn't need an alarm clock. He would set one every day at the same time, but would wake up at least 10 minutes before the alarm sounded. He was an early riser and his cyborg enhancements helped him do that.

So, as he did every morning, he opened his eyes quietly, stood up, and looked at Sven, who was still lying next to him. The younger one was rolled into a ball, deeply asleep, barely reacting to RHM's awakening.

The chief smiled, held out his hand to come and caress his cheek. Sven made a faint rustle, curled up and wiggled around a little, trying to get the unknown thing that was touching his face to go away. This time RHM laughed frankly:

"A kitten," he murmured as he withdrew his hand, unable to help but make the comparison.

He stood up, turning off the alarm clock before the alarm sounds. His young companion was sound asleep, but he didn't want to risk waking him up so early. He worked a lot and deserved to rest.

The cyborg went to get dressed, taking care of his outfit, tying his tie easily, then taking back his hat. He looked at himself in the mirror, rolled up his sleeves, then grabbed a comb and brushed his moustache. Satisfied, he came to check that the second alarm clock was on - so that Sven would be on time - and then picked up the clothes that had been left on the floor the day before. He folded them and put them on the commode, put his partner's hat on them, observed the room one last time and left the room when he was sure he hadn't forgotten anything.

His first job was to go around the station, checking that everything was all right, that there hadn't been any problem that he hadn't been informed of. He took the opportunity to make sure that the guards' rounds were respected, that no Toppat was missing at his post, while sometimes looking through the windows to observe the vastness of the galaxy that stretched around the station.

He was proud to have successfully completed this operation, to have led the clan into space. But he would have preferred so much that Reginald was at his side to celebrate their success. After all, wasn't it Reg who had conceived this plan, who had worked on it so hard?

RHM clenched his fists. He was the one who should have been captured. He should have protected his leader, his friend, he should have saved him and sacrificed himself as he had always promised. It was Reg who should have been on that station, at the head of the clan, not him, not RHM.

The cyborg disliked being the leader. He considered that he wasn't deserving of that title. He was able to give instructions, of course, he could take responsibility. But taking care of a whole clan? Was he really capable of that? It was necessary to think of the prosperity of the clan but also of the protection of all the members. The Toppats were a big family, being the chief was somehow being the father, and this idea made Right dizzy.

"Right!"

The cyborg stopped, turned his head to see Hanz joining him. He greeted him, not surprised to see him standing at such an hour. Hanz and him had known each other for years, they had joined the clan in the same period and were very effective when they fought together under Terrence's orders.

Hanz was a reckless Toppat, the kind of man who was fearless and would go straight for the kill, always ready for dangerous missions. He was known for his throwing skills - and in fact, people were afraid to approach him because of the spear he carried everywhere.

RHM, although he didn't say anything about it, was worried about his comrade who had been suffering from insomnia for a few years. This insomnia was playing on his personality. Hanz wasn't a gentle person, but exhaustion made him more cold and angry. Fortunately, he remained friendly with RHM, probably because he considered him a friend.

"Did you talk with the Earth Team?" Hanz asked.

- No, not yet. Why, has something happened?

- Yeah, news of Reginald. We finally located where he was locked up."

RHM stopped. He stared at Hanz in shock, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Seriously? Locked up? Is he alive?

- Take it up with Earth Team."

The cyborg didn't wait, rushing through the corridors unable to hide all the feelings that were upsetting him. If it was true, they were going to be able to save him... They were going to bring Reginald back to the station, safe and well! RHM's throat was knotted, trying not to get his hopes up for fear that karma might play a trick on him. When Reginald had been captured, he had completely disappeared, the clan hadn't managed to get any news. The most optimistic thought he was locked up in a high security prison, the most pessimistic thought he was dead.

RHM had tried not to think about it, to pretend it didn't affect him. But he had hoped for news, he had hoped, while being afraid to learn that his lover was indeed dead.

But Reginald was alive?

He rushed into the communication area, slammed the door, which caused a startle from the Toppats present. He approached Burt directly, who had started his service only half an hour earlier.

"Curtis, any news from the Earth Team," he asked.

Burt massaged his neck as he watched the leader:

"News goes fast..." he commented as he turned his eyes to his screen, before tapping his keyboard. "Well... Yeah, they reported to us just an hour ago. In fact, it looks like they found the boss... well, Mr. Reginald.

- I want a full report. The time, the place, who's watching, how to get there, what teams we can mobilize ... I need it within the hour to establish a strategy!"

Burt sighed. Even though he was happy to hear from Reginald, he wasn't as excited as RHM.

"Okay boss, but um... except for giving you the Earth Team report, there's nothing I can do. Sven's in charge of our squad report."

Sven...? RHM opened his eyes. Of course, the report that Sven had given him the day before!

"Give me your report, I'll take care of Sven's report," said the cyborg as he left the room.

He returned to his office quickly, regretting not having read his lover's report earlier. Yet the day before, he had promised Sven that he would read it and get back to him, but he had been drowning in work and had had to leave his reading aside.

He took the document and began to leaf through it, eagerly but also with great pleasure. Everything was well detailed and organized, the reading was clear and meticulous, and in one reading RHM already had an idea of the units he could mobilize and the strategy to address.

He smiled, feeling the motivation and hope coming back to him.

He was going to save Reginald.