Tyrix
TYRIX
T he transit corridors buzzed with the late shift crowd - merchants closing shop, maintenance crews starting rounds, smugglers pretending to be either. I tracked potential threats while keeping pace with Nalina.
She moved with surprising grace for a human, weaving through the press of bodies. The length of her neck drew my eye when she glanced back to check my position. The proximity stirred memories of Odra’s shop - her warmth, her scent, the way she’d leaned into me...
“Watch it!” A Cerulian worker stumbled between us, antennae flicking in annoyance.
I swallowed a growl. Focus. The hunt came first. Always.
“Two more levels to Green Section,” Nalina murmured. The words barely carried over the station’s constant drone, but my hearing caught them easily. “Stick close - the access corridors get tricky.”
“Hold on,” I said, as the doors opened. “Let me clear it.”
I didn’t know what was going on with this human female, but I wasn’t going to let anyone harm her. I’d figure out why later.
Nalina navigated the service tunnels with the efficiency of someone who’d spent years learning their secrets. “Odra used to make me map these corridors blindfolded,” she said, fingers brushing a junction box we passed. “Said a good maintenance worker could navigate by sound and touch alone. Comes in handy now, just not how he intended.”
A group of dock workers pushed past, their conversation drifting back:
“...third shipment this week...”
“...never seen the manifests...”
“...keep your voice down...”
My instincts pricked. But before I could listen further, Nalina tugged my arm, pulling me toward a maintenance hatch.
“This way’s faster.” She punched in a code, metal groaning as the hatch swung open. “Mind your head.”
The service tunnel beyond ran thick with pipes and conduits. Moisture beaded on the walls, dripping in steady rhythm. Nalina navigated by the sound, counting under her breath.
“Two more drips until we turn,” she whispered. “The moisture helps track distance - environmental controls never worked right in this section.”
“Ingenious.” The word slipped out.
She flashed a smile over her shoulder. “We all find ways to survive out here.”
I moved closer, drawn by that smile.
Movement ahead. I grabbed Nalina’s arm, pulling her back against my chest as voices echoed around the corner.
“...maintenance schedule shows this section’s clear...”
“...sweep it anyway. Boss wants everything checked...”
The voices grew closer. I pressed us deeper into shadow, acutely aware of Nalina’s pulse racing beneath my fingers. She fit perfectly against me, small and warm. The hunter in me noted our vulnerable position, counted escape routes. The rest of me...
“Wait.” She twisted in my grip, breath ghosting across my throat. “I know a better way.”
She led me through a maze of side passages, the drips marking our progress. Her footsteps were too quiet, too precise - like she was unconsciously matching my hunter’s stealth. The voices faded behind us. My hand still burned where I’d touched her.
“There.” She pointed to a gap between two larger storefronts. “Dasari’s shop.”
The entrance was easy to miss - a narrow doorway tucked into shadow. But my vision picked out sophisticated security measures woven through the frame. Motion sensors. Heat detectors. Sound dampeners.
A chime sounded as we entered. The air shifted, carrying new scents - ozone from electronics, tea, the metallic tang of data crystals.
A Nexian emerged from behind a privacy screen, her bronze skin catching the low light. The tiny beads in her sensory filaments clicked softly as she moved, then twitched minutely as she studied Nalina. Her wide-set eyes fixed on us with unsettling focus.
“Nalina.” Each word precise, measured. “This is unexpected.”
“We need information.” Nalina stepped forward. “About Jevik.”
“Information has value.” Dasari’s skin patterns shifted slightly. “As does discretion.”
“We can pay,” I started, but Nalina cut me off.
“You’ve been asking Odra about power crystals.” She held Dasari’s gaze. “Maybe we can help each other.”
Dasari’s filaments twitched with interest, but her eyes slid to me. “And your... companion?”
“He’s looking for someone too.”
The Nexian’s skin darkened slightly. “Follow me.”
She led us to a private booth at the back of the shop. The space was cramped - clearly not designed for someone my size. My leg pressed against Nalina’s as we sat. She didn’t pull away.
Dasari activated several devices built into the table. White noise generators hummed to life. The air rippled with electromagnetic interference.
“Speak freely,” she said. “But quickly. It is hard to believe that a Vinduthi is here for one such as Jevik. Who are you really searching for?”
“Dr. Ravika Gondon,” I said, watching her filaments tremble at the name. “And I suspect the Consortium knows exactly where she is.”
“Ah.” Her skin darkened further. “Now I understand why you brought this one to my shop, Nalina.”
“Name your price,” I said.
“Those Thandorian power crystals you’ve been trying to source?” Nalina’s smile was careful. “Odra mentioned you’d been asking.”
Dasari’s filaments quivered with sudden interest. “The stabilized ones?”
“He just got a shipment in. And he owes me a favor.”
“Crystals alone are not enough.” Dasari’s fingers tapped the table. “Not with the new security protocols making my usual supply routes... complicated.”
“I might know someone in port authority,” Nalina said carefully. “Someone who’s good at making sure papers match stories.”
A long pause as Dasari studied us both. Her filaments trembled slightly. Finally, her fingers began dancing across her data pad. “A worthy trade. Especially if delivery could be... expedited.”
She displayed a station schematic. “Three days ago, Jevik spoke with maintenance staff. Seeking access codes. He was... unwell. Shaking. His scales had dulled.”
“And Dr. Gondon?” I pressed.
“Arrived four months ago. All proper credentials.” Dasari’s filaments twitched. “But her equipment requests were unusual. Neural monitors. Endurance testing chambers. And then she disappeared, even from my sight.” She paused. “The old hydroponics labs have been drawing power again.”
“That’s where Jevik was headed,” Nalina breathed.
“Yes. Though reaching him may be difficult. Security patrols have increased in that sector.” Dasari’s fingers stilled. “They search methodically.”
I exchanged glances with Nalina. She’d gone pale, likely remembering how he’d looked in her bar.
My mind raced, connecting pieces. “The environmental system modifications...”
“Connect to the hydroponics network,” Dasari finished. “I have mapped unusual power draws in that sector. Here.” She displayed a station schematic. “These access points show recent activity.”
“But?” Nalina prompted.
“Consortium security has increased patrols in those areas.” Dasari’s fingers stilled. “They search methodically. It is only a matter of time.”
“Why give us this?” I studied her. “What else do you want?”
“Protection.” Her filaments vibrated faster. “I have tracked similar patterns across multiple stations. Scientists disappear. Return changed. Their research redirects to new focus areas.”
She leaned forward. “My surveillance systems detect increased monitoring of this shop. I require... insurance. Perhaps your Vinduthi brethren would be willing to make a deal.”
Before I could respond, her filaments went rigid...
“Speaking of monitoring...” She checked a display. “Consortium agents have entered Green Section. Three minutes until they reach this location.”
I looked at Nalina. Her jaw was set, eyes bright with determination.
“Back exit?” she asked.
Dasari nodded toward a hidden panel. “Two lefts, then straight until you hear the third drip.”
We moved quickly, but Nalina caught Dasari’s arm. “Thank you.”
“Do not thank me yet.” Dasari’s skin rippled one final time. “And Nalina? Watch the pattern of the drips. They changed recently. Someone has adjusted the environmental controls.”
The panel slid shut behind us, leaving us in darkness. Nalina’s hand found mine, warm and steady.
“Ready?” she whispered.
I squeezed her fingers. “Lead the way.”
But after the second turn, the familiar rhythm of moisture changed. The drops came faster, more erratic. Nalina tensed beside me.
“The pattern shifted,” she whispered. “Environmental controls...”
A hiss of pressurized air cut her off. Ahead, a maintenance hatch swung open. Two figures in station uniforms stepped through, tools hanging wrong on their belts. No grease stains, no worn patches - costumes, not work clothes.
I pulled Nalina into a recessed pipe junction. She pressed against me, breath held. The false maintenance workers moved with military precision, checking corners, scanning shadows.
“Section E-7 clear,” one murmured into a comm unit. “Moving to F-2.”
“They’re boxing us in,” Nalina breathed against my chest. “Using the environmental systems to herd people away from certain areas.”
“Or toward them.” I studied the pipes around us. “The temperature’s dropping. They’re manipulating air flow.”
Her fingers found mine in the dark. “There’s an old waste processing shaft three meters back. Hasn’t been used since they upgraded the systems five years ago.”
“How do you know these things?”
“You learn a lot serving drinks to maintenance workers.” A smile in her voice, despite everything. “Ready to get dirty?”
The shaft was narrow, slick with years of condensation. Nalina went first, movements sure despite the tight space. I followed, my larger frame scraping against corroded metal. It might have been years since this shaft was used, but to my senses, the odor was… best left indescribable.
Above us, boots clicked on grating, moving in search pattern formation.
We emerged two sections over, covered in rust and grime. Nalina’s hair had come loose, dark strands clinging to her neck. She looked wild, alive. Something in my chest tightened.
“That was no routine patrol,” she said, wiping rust from her hands. “They’re getting more aggressive.”
“They’re preparing for something.” I helped her over a tangle of pipes. “The question is what.”