Nalina
NALINA
T he service corridors felt colder than usual. My bare arms prickled as Tyrix and I crept through the shadows, our footsteps near silent on the metal grating. My mind kept drifting back to the storage bay, to Tyrix’s skilled mouth, his reverent touches. Heat bloomed in my belly at the memory.
A patrol passed above, boots striking metal in perfect unison. I pulled back against the wall, Tyrix’s solid warmth at my back.
“New checkpoints ahead,” Tyrix murmured against my ear. His breath stirred my hair, sending shivers down my spine. “They’ve doubled the guard rotations since yesterday.”
“This way.” I led him down a maintenance shaft I’d discovered years ago. The walls pressed close, barely wide enough for Tyrix’s broader frame. “Should bypass the worst of it.”
We emerged into a wider corridor. A security scanner swept the intersection ahead, its red beam painting harsh lines across the floor. I counted the pattern - three seconds on, two seconds off. Simple enough to time our movements between pulses.
“Now.” I darted through during the dark interval, Tyrix right behind me.
And then I heard a sound that shouldn’t have been there. Boots struck metal, coming from both directions.
“Cover your ears.” I darted to a nearby junction box - one of hundreds I’d memorized during my maintenance days. “Sorry about this.”
I yanked two wires loose and crossed them, creating a piercing feedback loop through the station’s ancient comm system. The sound echoed through the corridor.
“Station maintenance,” I called out, making my voice carry. “Sorry about that! System glitch!”
The patrol immediately changed direction, moving to investigate the disturbance. Standard procedure would require them to file a report about system failures - which meant paperwork. No one, not even enemy agents, liked paperwork.
“Nice trick,” Tyrix murmured as we slipped past in the opposite direction.
“Amazing what you remember from fixing things around here,” I grinned.
“Dasari’s shop is just ahead.”
The narrow maintenance corridor opened into Green Section’s marketplace. Vendors called their wares, the scents of a dozen worlds mingling in the recycled air. We threaded through the crowd, keeping our heads down.
“New security protocols in effect,” a voice announced over the station’s comm system. “All residents must present identification at checkpoints. Compliance is mandatory.”
Dasari’s shop occupied a cramped space between two larger storefronts. The sign reading “Data Recovery Services” flickered unevenly. Inside, sophisticated privacy screening hummed, masking any electronic signatures.
“What have you gotten into this time?” Dasari’s sensory filaments vibrated rapidly, the tiny metallic beads woven through them chiming discordantly. “Security’s gone mad out there. Three new scanning protocols since morning.”
“We noticed.” I placed the child’s ID bracelet on her workstation. “Need everything you can get from this.”
Multiple screens sprang to life, data streams cascading across them. Dasari’s fingers flew over the interfaces, her filaments clicking faster.
“Standard student ID encryption... wait.” She leaned closer. “Storage capacity is wrong. Far too much for basic identification.”
The main screen flickered as deeper scans ran. Medical terminology scrolled past - neural activity measurements, genetic compatibility scores, something called “resistance potential.”
My stomach turned. These were children’s medical records, detailed analyses of their developing brains and bodies. I thought of Vami’s anguish, multiplied across how many families?
My fingers clenched on the edge of Dasari’s workstation. Behind me, Tyrix shifted closer, his warmth steady at my back.
“More encryption layers,” Dasari muttered. “Military grade. This’ll take time.”
While her systems worked, she pulled up other displays. “Been tracking supply manifests. Medical equipment being routed through maintenance requests. Neural interface components listed as environmental sensors.”
The power fluctuated, screens dimming. Dasari’s filaments went rigid.
“Backup systems engaging.” Her hands moved quickly across the controls. “Three... two... one...”
The screens flared back to life. New data poured across them - coordinates in Blue Section, transfer schedules, security rotation changes.
“That sector.” Tyrix stepped closer. “I found a hidden facility there. Modified classroom with neural monitors built into every desk, medical sensors disguised as standard learning equipment. I’d guess from Dr. Gondon’s research they were measuring neural plasticity in developing minds.”
His voice roughened with anger. “The whole setup was designed to look normal while screening children for... compatibility.”
“The screening program.” I straightened as the pieces connected. “Vami said they tested the children first, called it routine medical checks.”
“Found something.” Dasari’s filaments rippled like vids I’d seen of wind through tall grass.. “Cross-referencing station records... pattern in maintenance requests around specific sections. Security changes matching transfer dates.”
Dasari’s sensory filaments spread wide, the metallic beads catching light as they vibrated at frequencies that made my teeth ache. Her bronze skin rippled with patterns I’d never seen before - concentric circles radiating outward as she processed the data streams. Her fingers moved almost too fast to track, interfacing with multiple screens simultaneously.
She pulled up another screen. “Medical data showing progression of changes in test subjects. They were screening for specific genetic markers.”
“Shit.”
Seeing Liseth’s name in those cold transfer records made bile rise in my throat. I’d served her drinks, listened to her stories, watched her slowly change - and never realized I was watching her being erased.
“The maintenance crews.” Tyrix growled. “They’re being exposed during routine work. Unintentional subjects.”
“Transfer date matches exactly.” My voice cracked. “Three days before she started showing symptoms. She came to the bar that night, complained about feeling strange...” I trailed off, remembering how her hands had shaken as she lifted her glass. How many other warning signs had I missed? How many regulars had I written off as just having a bad day?
Tyrix’s hand found mine under the workstation, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. The gesture was intimate, grounding. His markings seemed darker than usual, a sign of agitation I was learning to read.
“You couldn’t have known,” he murmured, but I could hear the same guilt in his voice - the hunter who should have seen the pattern sooner.
Dasari’s security systems pinged. “Patrol approaching. Different pattern than usual.” Her filaments rippled. “Movement suggests…enhancement.”
“The secure room.” She ushered us through a hidden door and a soft hum filled the air as privacy shields engaged, masking both sound and electronic signatures. Even with the shielding, we kept our voices low - no sense testing its limits.
The space was barely large enough for two. The close quarters amplified every sensation - his heat, his scent, the slight tremor in his muscles that betrayed his tension.
“You need to stay away from Blue Section,” he murmured, voice rough with something between anger and fear.
“My maintenance access is crucial. You know that.” I pushed against his chest, needing space to think past the intoxicating closeness of him. “I know these systems better than anyone.”
“It’s too dangerous.” His hands gripped my hips, holding me still. “They’re watching you already. The bar is going to be the one spot they watch heavily-”
“So I should just hide while they take more children?” I snapped, anger flaring hot in my chest. “While they experiment on my friends?”
“I can handle the investigation.” His scowl darkened. “I’m trained for this.”
“And I’m what - just some helpless bartender?” I shoved at him again, but in the tight space there was nowhere to go. “I’ve survived on this station for years. I don’t need your protection!”
His protective instincts should have irritated me more. Instead, they made something warm curl in my chest, even as I prepared to fight him on this. The same hands that had worshipped my body hours ago now sought to cage me - but I’d never been good at staying in cages.
“You have no idea what you’re walking into!” His growl vibrated through me. “I’ve seen what they do to people who interfere-”
“So have I!” My voice cracked. “I watched them drag Vami away. I saw what they did to Grot. These are my people, Tyrix. My station.”
“And you’re my-” He cut himself off, breathing hard.
“Your what?” I challenged, tilting my face up to his. “Some fragile human you need to shelter?”
His eyes blazed red in the darkness. “You know damn well you’re more than that.”
“Then trust me!” I fisted my hands in his shirt. “Stop trying to push me away just because you’re scared-”
His mouth crashed into mine, cutting off my words. The kiss was all heat and fury, a clash of wills as much as bodies. I bit his lower lip in retaliation, tasting the metallic sweetness of his blood. He growled, the sound shooting straight to my core.
His hands tangled in my hair, tilting my head back as his mouth moved to my throat. I gasped as his fangs scraped the sensitive skin.
“I won’t lose you,” he breathed against my pulse. “I can’t.”
“You won’t.” I pulled his face back to mine, softening the kiss. “But you don’t get to decide what risks I take. I won’t hide while you put yourself in danger.”
He pressed his forehead to mine, breathing ragged. “You’re the most infuriating-”
I silenced him with another kiss, gentler this time. “I know. And you’re the most overprotective-”
His laugh was more growl than humor. “Only with what’s mine.”
That possessive tone shouldn’t have done such wicked things to me. But it did. “Yours?” I scraped my nails down his chest, feeling him shudder. “That works both ways, hunter.”
The all-clear signal chimed, startling us both. We broke apart, breathing hard, the argument not quite resolved but transformed into something else entirely.
“Together,” I said firmly, straightening my clothes. “We investigate together.”
The word hung between us, heavy with promise and fear. I studied his face - the sharp angles softened in the dim light, the way his markings caught the eye.
Hours ago I’d traced those patterns with my fingers, my tongue. Now we were planning to walk into danger together, and my chest ached with the need to protect him even as I knew he felt the same about me.
My fingers found his, twining together. In just days he’d become essential to me, this dangerous, beautiful hunter who’d crashed into my life. The thought of losing him now...
A shout from the marketplace made us both tense. We moved toward the exit, our bodies automatically adjusting to share space, to watch each other’s backs.