Danger didn't even begin to describe the whole ordeal Akmazian had been through during his absence. It started with a trip deep into the void and just went downhill from there. It required him to stretch is already extensive skill set, and put him well behind what were now enemy lines, though it had once been friendly territory. But in the end, the mission was a roaring success. Even if he'd not escaped without a bit of battle damage. His ship practically limped into the cargo bay, showing the sort of scars that made one wonder how it even made it to the station.

But soon, Akmazian was striding across the cargo bay, intending to head for the good doctor's quarters. He looked liked he'd been through similar battles as his ship, banged and bruised, a half-healed cut above one eye. His beloved cloak fluttered behind him, singed and tattered in true rebellion fashion. And he was practically beaming. Head held high, stride broad. If his mood were any better he might have given to dancing.

He nearly reached that level upon spying the familiar pink-haired doctor right there in the cargo bay. He'd expected to sneak through the ship to find the man, but there he was.

Waiting.

For him.

Akmazian didn't waste time with words by way of a greeting. He just rushed over to Ryan, grabbed him by the front of the shirt, and kissed him. Hard. Even more forward than even his usual tactics. But no words could accurately describe things right then. He was too elated to articulate it.