Chapter 4
4
A human female entered the room, perhaps in her early twenties. Maax sat up straighter when he recognized her; Lady Jade, Vaarn's mate. She moved with precision as if she'd mapped out every step in advance. Her clothing was of good quality, simple and well-maintained, and the bracelet of a Latharian warrior on her wrist caught the light.
"Please state your name for the record," Tisshel asked.
"Jade Ashton." Her expression was steady as she addressed the humans opposite her. "But you'll find me in the Terran legal system as Jade Morgan, along with an application to have it legally changed."
Carson's expression hardened. "Morgan? Any relation to?—"
"Thomas and Sarah Morgan were my foster parents for eighteen years." Her fingers twisted together. The humans couldn’t see it, but he could from where he was. "I was with them from when I was three years old until I escaped last month."
Maax studied Taylor's reaction. Nothing. Her expression remained perfectly controlled. The social worker wasn't as composed, her fingers darting across her tablet.
"I have no record of any complaints?—"
"You won't have." Jade's shoulders tightened. "The Morgans were careful. They let us talk to anyone from the authorities alone and they made sure all the paperwork was perfect."
"Please," Tisshel said, "tell us about your time with the Morgans."
Jade drew in a deep breath. "They took in foster children for the money. We weren't kids to them though. We were just free labor and a steady income. I cooked, cleaned, did maintenance... whatever they wanted. If I was too slow, or if I made mistakes—“ She paused, steadying herself. "They had ways of punishing us…extra work, less food.”
The lawyer started to object, but a look from Taylor silenced him.
"When I turned eighteen," Jade continued, "they managed to get me declared mentally incompetent. Some doctor I never met said I wasn't capable of living independently. That meant they could keep collecting payments and keep using me for work. I spent three more years trying to find a way out."
Her hands trembled, but her voice was firm as she looked at the human representatives. "The Morgans are very good at appearing concerned and caring to authorities. They only take one or two children at a time… they’re easier to control that way. They know exactly what to say, how to make it look like any problems are the child's fault."
Fury built in Maax's chest. An image of Emily huddled in the closet with the bag she’d just been dropped of with at the Morgans flashed through his mind. Jade’s words explained so much about his daughter's early behavior when she’d arrived on the station.
"Thank you, Lady Jade," Tisshel said. "If you don’t mind, I have one final question. In your experience, what happens to children who try to report the Morgan’s?”
"They were transferred to other homes for 'behavioral issues'." Jade’s voice hardened. “I never saw any of them again."
Taylor leaned forward, the first movement she'd made.
"You understand," she said, "that this testimony will be required at the inquiry into this matter?”
Jade lifted her chin. "Yes. I'm ready to testify. They need to be stopped."
Taylor looked at her directly. "The Morgans lost their lives in an… unfortunate house fire a few weeks ago."
Shock flowed over Jade’s face, and Maax kept his expression neutral. So her mate hadn’t told her what happened that night...
Taylor nodded once and turned to Tisshel. "I believe you have supporting documentation for Emily Morgan’s case?”
"Multiple files." Tisshel's earlier gentleness was gone. She produced document after document. "Medical records from the lead healer on station who is personally dealing with Emily’s care, as well as financial transactions and sworn statements from other former foster children who've since come forward. The pattern is quite clear."
Maax watched the humans' reactions as Tisshel outlined the evidence. The lawyer's aggression faded to resignation. The social worker went white. Taylor’s expression didn’t change, as though she’d already heard everything Tisshel revealed.
"The Centauri-Four Accords," Tisshel continued, "specifically address the rights of minors in cases like this. The Proximax Convention further supports intervention by recognized authorities… which Warrior A'Taav, as a registered representative of the Latharian Empire, certainly qualifies as."
She produced another document. "I've already filed with the Intergalactic Courts. They've issued a preliminary ruling supporting Warrior A'Taav's intervention and the current custody arrangement."
“In that case,” Taylor said. “I think we are done here. Thank you all for your time.”
She made a small gesture, and both her companions began gathering their materials, a hint of defeat in their mannerisms.
“You are more than welcome.” Tisshel rose and turned to Jade with a small, formal bow. “Lady T’Kaan, thank you for your assistance in this matter.”
“You’re welcome.” Jade paused at the door, meeting Maax's gaze. "Thank you. For getting her out of there."
She looked as if she wanted to say more, but Maax silently urged her not to. There was no need to give the humans any more information than they already had. But Jade just inclined her head again, and then she was gone.
Taylor stood, drawing all attention without apparent effort.
"The courts will require ongoing documentation of Emily's care and development," she stated.
"Of course," Tisshel answered, waiting for Maax's confirming nod.
"Excellent." Taylor led the way, her subordinates falling into step behind her. At the threshold, she glanced back at Maax. "Do remember that the inquiry begins next month. Emily's testimony won't be required, but yours might be."
He nodded. If they needed him, he would be there.
After they left, Tisshel organized her documents with meticulous movements. He studied her. Her transformation during the proceedings had been remarkable… from gentle academic to razor-sharp advocate and back again.
His wrist bracer chimed softly. It was just a routine update from the nursery. He couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. Emily was fine. She’d eaten all her lunch and was now enjoying her afternoon activities.
"The documentation you presented," he said, breaking the silence. "About the Centauri-Four Accords and the Proximax Convention. I wasn't aware they applied to human children."
Tisshel glanced up, her dark eyes unreadable. "Most aren't. The legal framework for human integration into galactic society is... evolving. Rapidly." She paused. "Which makes cases like this particularly complex."
"And yet you seemed prepared for their arguments."
Her pointed teeth showed briefly. “While I might not be that familiar with human law, I have studied humanity. They have a phrase: ‘know your enemy.’ And they presented exactly what I expected." The words carried a bitter edge. "They focus so much on procedure that they forget their primary duty… the welfare of the child."
His hands tightened into fists at his sides. The memory of finding Emily burned fresh. "They would have sent her back."
"They would have tried." Her voice hardened, and she pulled out a datapad, scanning it. "Healer Kellat's reports are thorough. His documentation of Emily's initial condition and improvement will be valuable."
Maax straightened. "You spoke with Kellat yourself?”
"Of course.” She nodded. “His observations and standing as Lead Healer carry significant weight. He was quite forthcoming about Emily's progress and improvement under your care."
She continued gathering her documents into the cases she carried.
"The next phase will take time," she said. "The humans will no doubt appeal. They'll try to challenge my legal standing, the jurisdiction, the applicability of interspecies legislation to human matters." Her tone suggested she found their tactics tedious. "But for now, your custody arrangement is secure."
He straightened. "And after the appeals?"
She met his gaze. "One battle at a time, Warrior. For now, focus on Emily. Document everything: her care, her progress, her needs, and how you meet them. Have Kellat continue his assessments. The rest..." She made a dismissive gesture. "The rest is my concern."
She gathered her cases, her height allowing easy movement of the larger ones. At the door, she paused.
"Kellat's reports show remarkable improvement in Emily's physical and emotional state. Her healing is well-documented." Now she turned, her expression serious. "Remember that when the humans try to claim otherwise. You need to tell them what the healer observed when you first brought her to him, and what he's recording now."
She left the room in a swish of her robes, hooves clicking softly against the deck. Maax stayed where he was, letting the day's events settle. So much remained uncertain. But Emily was safe. For now, that had to be enough.
His bracer chimed again. Another nursery update. Emily had drawn a picture she wanted to show him. Despite everything, he smiled as he headed for the door. Legal battles could wait. His daughter needed him.
Eira's hands trembled as she folded the last of Grace's threadbare shirts and tucked it into the trunk. It was a colony-issued storage container, meant for a single person's yearly supplies, but it now had to hold everything four people needed for their new lives. Her heart clenched as she leaned against the edge of the trunk for a moment. How could she decide what to leave behind? All the memories…
"We shouldn't be doing this," Leo growled. At seventeen, he towered over her now, his jaw set in a hard line as he shoved his datapad into his backpack.
"We'll talk about it on the shuttle, sweetheart." She kept her voice steady somehow. She'd explained it three times already, but Leo needed time to process. But it was time they didn't have. The transport shuttle was arriving this morning, and they needed to be on it. The next wouldn’t come around for another month, and she didn’t have enough medication for Kyle to last that long.
Her youngest son sat on his bed, clutching his stuffed rabbit…the last gift from his father. Unlike his older brother's obvious rebellion, Kyle's silence spoke volumes. Grace, thank God, was too young at four to fully understand what was happening. She sat on the floor, happily sorting her few toys into piles of "coming" and "staying."
“But Dad's here," Leo glared at her. "Everything we have left of him is here."
The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She abandoned the packing and crossed to the small window. If she stood in just the right place, she could see the edge of the settlement’s memorial gardens. There was a marker there bearing James's name among the dozens of others lost in the accident. The guilt that had become her constant companion since accepting the mate program's offer rose up to choke her.
I'm so sorry, she thought, pressing her hand against the cool glass as if her late husband could hear her. But I have to keep them safe.
A chime sounded through the pod. Shit, that was the fifteen-minute warning of the shuttle’s arrival, and they still needed to get to the landing pads.
Her jaw clenched. She could do this. They could do this. They had to. "Okay, everyone. Respirators on. We need to move. Now.”
She helped Grace put her mask on first, checking the seal twice before making sure Kyle's was properly fitted. The familiar hiss of filtered air filled her ears as she did a final sweep of the pod. Eight years of life reduced to two trunks and three backpacks. Her wedding ring caught the light as she reached for the first trunk, and she swallowed hard. She didn’t know why she still wore it. Habit, she guessed. She would have to put it away for when Leo or one of the others decided to get married.
The settlement was deserted as they made their way out of the pod and through the buildings. That wasn’t a surprise. Most people would be at their work assignments at this hour. She gripped one trunk and pulled it along while Leo took the other, his jaw clenched as he refused to look at her. She sighed and held Grace's small fingers in her free hand while Kyle walked close to his brother's side.
The dry air pulled at their clothes, and Eira tightened her grip on Grace's hand. The landing pad was only half a kilometer away, a straight shot across the colony's well-maintained path.
"Will there be sand at Devan Station?" Kyle asked, the words muffled by his mask.
"No, honey." Eira squeezed Grace's hand as they walked, urging her to keep up. "Devan Station is in space. No sand, just stars."
"They have proper hydroponics labs," Leo added unexpectedly. "Like in the advanced agriculture vids."
"Even better than that. They have real gardens there, with actual Earth plants. And the station is so big, they have entire sections just for recreation."
They formed a line along the rocky ground, the settlement buildings falling behind them. Grace and Kyle were between Eira and Leo as they pulled their trunks. Her muscles ached, but she kept her pace steady, watching her children navigate the familiar path. Her respirator pressed against her face, a reminder of why they had to leave. This wasn't a world meant for humans, no matter how hard they tried to make it one.
"Almost there," she called out. "Just keep moving forward. Don't look back."
But she did look back toward the memorial gardens. Goodbye, James, she whispered into her respirator. I hope you understand.
They reached the landing pad, a large expanse of reinforced concrete not far from the settlement’s warehouses. She grunted as she shoved their trunks together, creating a makeshift windbreak for Grace and Kyle, who were starting to fidget in the dry air. Standing, she rubbed at her lower back. The landing pad was deserted. No one had come to see them off. She'd known they wouldn’t; they’d all be working now, but the reality of their isolation still stung a little.
"How much longer?" Kyle asked, pressing against her side. His respirator fogged slightly with each breath.
She checked her wrist display. "Should be any minute now." She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, noting the tension in Leo’s tall frame as he stared up at the orange sky.
Grace tugged at her sleeve. "Mama, I’m thirsty."
"We'll get you something to drink on the shuttle, baby." She smoothed her daughter's hair, trying not to think about how their lives would change once that shuttle arrived. Would the Latharians have thought about human children's needs? About juice boxes and snacks and?—
A deep rumble cut through her thoughts, vibrating in her chest. Kyle's fingers dug into her arm as a shadow fell across the pad. Grace whimpered as she pressed her face into Eira's leg.
“It’s here!” Leo called out, just as the alien shuttle dropped out of the sky almost uncontrollably. She had to bite back a yelp, convinced it wasn’t going to stop and end up splattered at the bottom of a new crater where the landing pad used to be.
But it didn’t. It stopped abruptly, about half a meter from the surface of the pad. Her eyes widened in amazement. The power it must have taken to do that. She looked up at the thing. It was easily three times the size of the colony's transport vessels, bristling with weapons. The landing struts alone were taller than she was.
"Holy shit," Leo breathed, moving closer. Despite his earlier anger, his hand found Kyle's shoulder, pulling his younger brother against his side.
The shuttle's engines cycled down, the high-pitched whine setting her teeth on edge. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she stared up at it. This was really happening. In a few moments, she would lead her children onto an alien ship and leave behind everything they'd ever known.
Grace started to cry, the sound muffled by her respirator but heart-wrenching all the same. Eira scooped her up, settling her on her hip despite her being really too big for it now.
"It's okay, sweetheart," she murmured, though she wasn't sure if she was reassuring Grace or herself. "We're going to be fine. Look how shiny it is. Like a big silver bird, right?"
The shuttle's hull plating shifted, the ramp extending toward the ground in rapid-fire clicks. Each clank of deploying mechanisms made Grace jump, her small arms tightening more around Eira's neck.
Kyle pressed closer to Leo, who had gone very still, his expression unreadable behind his respirator. But Eira could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands had curled into fists at his sides. He looked so much like James—the same protective stance, the same quiet strength—that her throat tightened.
The ramp touched down with a clang that echoed across the empty pad. She forced herself to breathe steadily, to project a calm she didn't feel. Her children were watching her, taking their cues from her reactions. She couldn't fall apart now, couldn't let them see how terrified she was.
Heavy footsteps echoed down the ramp, and she held her breath as she waited for the first glimpse of their alien escort. The first Latharian emerged. He was huge, broad shoulders seeming to fill the entire doorway. Petrol-green braids hung past his shoulders, catching the orange light of the sun. But it was his eyes that made Grace bury her face in Eira's neck… they weren’t human, with vertical pupils that seemed to assess each of them in turn.
"You are the mate program candidate?" His voice was rough, the words heavily accented but clear enough over the howl of the wind.
Eira swallowed the urge to ask if he saw any other humans waiting around with packed trunks. "Yes," she said with a nod, proud that her voice was steady.
He nodded, then moved down the ramp.
"I will take these," he said, surprisingly graceful for someone his size as he reached for both trunks, hefting them onto his shoulders. Her eyes widened. It had taken both her and Leo to drag them across the settlement.
"Follow," he commanded, already turning back toward the shuttle.
Leo's hand brushed her arm. "Mom..." The word held a wealth of uncertainty.
"It's okay," she whispered, though nothing about this felt okay. "Stay close to Kyle."
They followed the Latharian warily to find that the shuttle's interior was hard and utilitarian, all gunmetal gray surfaces and exposed bolts. The seats looked more like crash webbing than anything else, sized for beings much larger than humans. A door presumably led to the cockpit, another to what she really hoped was a bathroom. They all jumped as the ramp crashed shut behind them.
"You may remove breathing apparatus," the Latharian said, securing their trunks with practiced efficiency. "Atmosphere is regulated."
Eira helped Grace with her respirator first, then Kyle's, before removing her own. Leo handled his on his own, his movements still sharp with tension. The air tasted different… cleaner somehow, with an underlying tang she couldn't identify.
"These seats," the Latharian indicated the nearest set of restraints. "Small ones there." He pointed out where the webbing could be adjusted tighter. “Need to wear harness for takeoff, then you can move around. We tell you when.”
“Thank you,” Eira smiled, surprised at his consideration. She’d expected to be left to figure it all out herself.
Grace refused to let go of Eira, so she settled into one of the oversized seats with her daughter in her lap. Kyle and Leo took the seats across from them, Kyle's feet barely reaching the edge of the seat. Even hers and Leo’s feet didn’t reach the floor.
The Latharian looked over their harnesses, then nodded and headed to the cockpit without another word, the door sliding shut behind him with a pneumatic hiss.
Not talkative then. That was fine. She could cope with not talkative.
The shuttle shuddered as it lifted off, and Grace's fingers dug into Eira's arms. Through the small viewport, she could see the colony growing smaller, the dome of the memorial gardens catching the sunlight one last time before it was lost among the endless orange wastes.
Holy shit, what had she done?