Nalina
NALINA
I led the way through the maintenance tunnel, my feet finding secure holds without conscious thought. Behind me, Tyrix moved with predator’s grace, his breathing steady despite the confined space.
My hand brushed against a control panel, steady this time. Small victories. The tremors came and went, each one a reminder of the countdown ticking in my blood. I pushed the thought aside and focused on the next section of tunnel.
“Wait.” I held up my hand as we approached an intersection. The security feed showed an empty corridor, but something felt wrong. I studied the pattern of dust on the deck plates, the way the emergency strips cast shadows.
“Someone’s been through here recently.”
Tyrix nodded, one hand dropping to his weapon. But before either of us could move, the camera above our heads flickered, its indicator light shifting from red to green.
“Odra,” I breathed. His network at work, clearing our path one section at a time.
We pressed on, following the trail of conveniently malfunctioning systems. A door that should have been sealed stood open just enough to let us slip through. Security feeds showed endless loops of empty corridors. Even the environmental sensors stayed quiet as we passed.
“Your friend has been busy,” Tyrix murmured.
“He knows what’s at stake.” I checked another junction. “People have been disappearing from maintenance crews for months. Odra’s been connecting the dots - the missing workers, the strange power fluctuations, the sealed-off sections. Now they finally know who’s responsible.”
The tunnel opened into a broader service corridor. Signs of recent activity marked the walls - new power conduits put into old systems, strange equipment humming behind makeshift panels. The station’s guts transformed into something alien and wrong.
A wave of dizziness hit without warning. I caught myself against the wall, cursing silently as my fingers trembled against the metal.
Tyrix’s hand settled on my shoulder, steady and warm. He didn’t speak, didn’t try to stop me. Just offered silent support until the moment passed.
“I’m-”
“Don’t say it.” His fingers tightened briefly. “We keep moving.”
The central chamber lay ahead, its massive doors sealed with security protocols that should have taken hours to crack. But Odra’s people had been here too. The control panel blinked green as we approached, and the doors slid open quietly.
“Gods.”
The chamber stretched upward into shadow, its circular walls lined with stasis units. Each pod held a child, suspended in artificial sleep while the Consortium’s modifications worked through their systems. The sight hit like a physical blow - all those young lives twisted into something they were never meant to be.
Dr. Gondon moved immediately to the central platform, her equipment already spreading across the synthesis station. “Starting initial calibration now. Watch those readings.”
I circled the outer ring, checking each stasis unit. Netu’s silver skin had dulled to ash, but her fingertips still pulsed with weak bioluminescence. The Poraki children’s scales showed hints of purple beneath their natural iridescence. Even the tiny Merrith, usually so quick and clever, lay unnaturally still.
A sound from above made me freeze. Soft scraping, barely audible over the hum of equipment. I looked up to see a ceiling panel shift slightly.
“We have company,” I murmured.
Tyrix’s weapon appeared in his hand, but I shook my head. “Friendly. Odra’s people.”
The panel lifted away, revealing a Merrith worker’s delicate features. More panels shifted, a network of helpers emerging from the station’s hidden spaces.
“Four teams,” the first Merrith whispered, their large eyes reflecting both fear and determination. “Odra told us there were children. We didn’t know... we didn’t realize...” They steadied themselves. “We’ll get them out through the maintenance shafts. Just tell us what you need.”
I nodded. “Start with the stable ones. We’ll handle-”
A warning light flashed on Dr. Gondon’s console. “Security breach in the main corridor. They’re early.”
“I’ll handle it.” Tyrix moved to the chamber entrance, melting into shadow with predatory grace.
I turned back to the stasis units, trying to ignore the sounds of combat from the corridor. Focus on the task. One child at a time.
The first disconnections went smoothly. Dr. Gondon called out vital signs while I helped the Merrith workers detach support systems.
The lead Merrith worker froze at the first stasis unit, delicate hands pressing against the glass. “Stars above...” Their large eyes went wide with horror. “We thought... we assumed they’d been taken off-station. Not this. Never this.” The others gathered close, their usual fluid movements turned jerky with shock.
I gave them a moment to process what they were seeing. Sometimes understanding comes too late, but it comes with purpose.
Our helpers formed a living chain, passing each child up through the ceiling access points with incredible efficiency.
Then we reached Netu’s pod.
“This is wrong.” Dr. Gondon’s skin rippled with agitation as she studied the readouts. “The neural patterns... they’ve modified her stasis protocols. A standard shutdown could kill her.”
“What do we need?”
“Manual override. But I can’t leave the synthesis.” Her hands moved quickly across the controls. “The compound is at a critical stage.”
“Talk me through it.”
She nodded, dividing her attention between screens. “Start with the primary neural interface. You’ll need to-”
A crash from the corridor cut off her words. I spun to see Tyrix dealing with a security team - three attackers down, two more incoming. But behind them...
“More coming,” he called. “Get those kids out. Now.”
The Merrith workers redoubled their efforts, practically flying between pods as they disconnected and evacuated the remaining children. All except Netu.
“Primary interface disengaged,” I reported, following Dr. Gondon’s rapid instructions. My hands shook as I reached for the secondary controls, but I forced them steady. I couldn’t afford mistakes. Not with a child’s life in my hands.
“Good. Now the autonomic systems, but slowly. Too fast and the shock could-”
Another crash from the corridor. I didn’t look.
“Synthesis at ninety percent,” Dr. Gondon announced. “Beginning final stabilization sequence.”
One by one, Netu’s vital signs shifted from artificial stability to natural rhythms. The silver returned to her skin as the stasis field faded.
“Last one.” The Merrith worker reached for Netu’s pod. “But we need to go now. Security’s starting full sweeps of the maintenance tunnels.”
I helped lift Netu’s small form, making sure the monitoring leads stayed connected until the very last moment. The Merrith worker disappeared up the access shaft with practiced grace, precious cargo held close.
“Synthesis complete.” Dr. Gondon began packing her equipment with swift precision. “But we still need to reach the environmental controls.”
The station’s warning system pulsed, red light washing across the walls. Behind us, Tyrix dispatched another security team with brutal efficiency.
“Time to go.” He rejoined us at the central platform. “More coming. Full tactical units this time.”
I nodded, already plotting our route through the maintenance tunnels. My hands trembled as I pulled up the schematics, but I ignored it. We’d gotten the children out. Now we just had to make sure they stayed safe.
“This way.” I led them toward a maintenance shaft half-hidden behind storage units. “There’s a direct route to the environmental controls through-”
The station shuddered, deep mechanical groans echoing through its bones. Warning lights shifted from red to purple.
“What is that?” Tyrix asked.
“Initialization sequence.” Dr. Gondon paled. “They’re starting the mass implementation. We need to move. Now.”
I pulled open the access panel, revealing the tunnel beyond. Behind us, heavy boots thundered down the corridor. The station’s systems hummed with building power as the Consortium prepared to take control of every mind within reach.
We had minutes at most.
But at least the children were safe. Whatever happened next, we’d given them a chance.
I ducked into the tunnel, leading our small team deeper into the station’s interior. Somewhere ahead lay the environmental controls, and our last chance to stop this madness.
If my strength held.
If we reached it in time.
If the station’s systems didn’t tear themselves apart first.
The thunder of pursuit faded behind us as we vanished into the maintenance shafts. But ahead, the real fight waited. And this time, we’d have to find another way out.