Nalina
NALINA
T he first thing I noticed was scent - Tyrix’s familiar musk mixed with the metallic scent of the station air and... something else. Multiple presences nearby.
My eyes snapped open. Too fast - the sudden influx of visual data overwhelmed my new abilities. Colors blazed impossibly bright, every shadow held intricate detail. I squeezed my eyes shut again with a groan.
“Take it slow,” Tyrix murmured. His hand found mine, our bond thrumming with reassurance. “Let each sense adjust naturally.”
I tried again, more carefully this time. The storage bay came into gradual focus - utilitarian walls, scattered crates, the narrow bunk where I lay. And gathered around it...
“Kell!” My voice came out rough. The Zeqnid’s mandibles clicked rapidly - his version of a relieved smile.
“Welcome back.” She pressed a container into my hands. “Water. You’ll need it.”
The simple act of sitting up revealed how different my body felt - stronger, more precise in its movements. I sipped slowly, cataloging changes. My skin tingled where purple markings now adorned it, matching Tyrix’s own. When I breathed in, countless new scents painted a vivid picture of my surroundings.
“.” Vami stepped forward, and my breath caught. Beside her stood a small figure - Netu, restored to health. The child’s empathic presence glowed warm and bright, no trace remaining of the Consortium’s corruption.
“You found her.” My voice cracked. “You got her back.”
“Thanks to you.” Vami drew Netu closer. “Thanks to all of you.”
I reached for the child’s hand, marveling at how clearly I could now sense her emotional state - joy, relief, lingering traces of fear being steadily replaced by hope.
“The other children?” I asked.
“All recovered.” Odra’s voice came from the doorway as he entered. “Being reunited with families now. The compound worked exactly as intended.”
I let my new senses take in his appearance - his skin shifting through subtle patterns that spoke of exhaustion and satisfaction. “Casualties?”
His colors darkened. “Eight security officers. Too far gone by the time we reached them. And Dr. Gondon...”
“She chose her path,” Tyrix said quietly. “Destroyed the lab. All their research data. Made sure they can’t rebuild here.”
She’d found her redemption after all.
“The station?” I switched my focus to practical matters.
“Recovering.” Odra gestured expansively. “Power systems stabilizing. Most affected sectors already showing improvement. But...” He hesitated.
“But?”
Tyrix’s hand tightened on mine.
“You’ll need to leave soon,” Kell said quietly. “Once the Consortium realizes what happened here...”
I nodded, surprised by how little the thought pained me. The station had been my home for years, but now... I glanced at Tyrix, feeling his presence warm and steady through our bond. Home had taken on a different meaning.
“The bar-” I started.
“Is in good hands.” Kell’s mandibles clicked firmly. “I’ve been running it half the time anyway, these past weeks.”
A wave of dizziness hit as I tried to stand. Tyrix steadied me, concern flowing through our bond.
“She needs rest,” he told the others. “Time to adjust.”
They filed out with promises to return later. Only Netu lingered, her small hand finding mine one more time.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Her empathic presence radiated pure gratitude.
Then they were gone, leaving me alone with Tyrix. He drew me closer, and I breathed in his scent - somehow even more compelling.
“How are you really feeling?” he asked.
“Different. Stronger.” I flexed my hands, marveling at the precision of movement. “But also... more. Like everything that was already there got turned up to maximum.”
His thumb traced one of my new markings. “They suit you.”
I caught his hand, pressing it flat against my skin. Through our bond, desire flared hot and bright.
“Later,” he promised roughly. “When you’re stronger.”
I growled in frustration - actually growled, the sound startlingly natural from my changed throat. His answering rumble sent shivers down my spine.
“We need to discuss what comes next,” he said, visibly forcing himself to focus. “I have contacts - other hunters, people who operate outside the law. They can help us expose the other facilities.”
“Good.” I leaned into him, letting his solid presence ground me as my new body processed the world around us. “Because I’m not letting this end here. Not while there are other children in danger.”
His approval hummed through our bond. “I hoped you’d say that. But first...” He hesitated. “There’s somewhere you need to go.”
I knew immediately what he meant. The Rusted Horizon - my bar, my refuge for so many years. I needed to say goodbye properly.
“Will you come with me?”
The Rusted Horizon sat silent and dark when I pushed through the door. Not the bustling energy I was used to - this was the quiet between shifts, when even the drunkest patrons had stumbled home to sleep it off. My nose picked up traces of stale beer, cleaning solution, the lingering warmth of bodies long gone.
“Feels strange,” I murmured, running my fingers along the scarred bar top. “Being on this side.”
“Good strange?” Tyrix asked, as he looked around.
“Just... strange.” My new markings tingled as I absorbed the familiar space with unfamiliar senses. Every dent and scratch held memories - fights broken up, secrets traded, alliances formed and broken over cheap drinks.
“You’re early.” Kell’s voice drifted from the back room. She emerged carrying a crate of bottles, mandibles clicking in what I now recognized as amusement. “Though I suppose punctuality comes with the enhanced package.”
I snorted, falling easily into our old pattern despite everything that had changed. “Says the one who’s always here before opening.”
“Someone has to maintain standards.” She set the crate down with precise movements. “Even if certain bartenders spend their nights running around saving children instead of serving drinks.”
“About that...” I started.
“Don’t.” Her mandibles clicked firmly. “You did what needed doing. We both know it.”
Through the bond, I felt Tyrix’s approval of her words. His hand found the small of my back, steadying.
“Still. The bar-”
“I’ll find another worker.” She waved off my protests. “Won’t be as good as you, but maybe prone to less trouble. Odra says he’ll help me look.”
Speaking of Odra... My hearing picked up his approach before the door opened. His skin rippled through welcoming patterns as he entered.
“Thought I’d find you here.” He set a small package on the bar. “Brought you something.”
Inside lay a data crystal and what looked like security credentials. High-level ones.
“From Dr. Gondon,” he explained. “One more hidden file. Coordinates for other facilities, security protocols, evidence of what they have done. Things that need to reach the right people.”
I touched the crystal carefully. “You’re sure?”
“Already made copies.” His skin shifted to amusement. “I’m not completely terrible at espionage.”
“Could have fooled me,” Kell muttered, but her mandibles clicked fondly.
I pocketed the crystal, feeling its weight settle against my hip. One more piece of unfinished business. One more wrong to right.
“We’ll make sure it gets where it needs to go,” Tyrix promised.
“I know you will.” Odra’s patterns shifted to something more serious. “But be careful. The Consortium’s reach is long.”
“So is mine now.” I flexed my hands, still marveling at their new strength. Purple markings swirled across my knuckles, beautiful and deadly.
Kell moved behind the bar with fluid grace, pulling out glasses. “One last drink before you go?”
“You know I don’t-” I started.
“Special occasion.” She poured something that glowed softly blue. “And your metabolism can handle it now.”
I picked up the glass, inhaling subtly. Rare spirits, trace minerals, something that made my nose tingle.
“To new beginnings,” Odra offered, raising his own glass.
“To old friends,” I countered.
The drink burned pleasantly, leaving traces of starlight on my tongue. Through our strong bond, I felt Tyrix’s amusement at my reaction.
“Speaking of friends...” Kell reached under the bar, producing a familiar bottle. “Take this. For the road.”
My throat tightened. It was the same tea blend I’d drunk during countless late shifts, the one she’d special-ordered when she noticed I didn’t drink alcohol.
“Kell...”
“Don’t get sentimental on me now.” Her mandibles clicked rapidly. “Just don’t forget where you came from.”
“Never.” I hugged her carefully, mindful of my new strength. Her exoskeleton was warm against my cheek.
Odra’s skin rippled through farewell patterns. “Take care of each other out there.”
“We will.” Tyrix’s voice held absolute certainty. Through our shared bond, I felt his fierce protectiveness, his pride in what we’d become together.
I took one last look around the bar - my home for so many years. The scarred tables, the mismatched chairs, the wall of bottles catching starlight through grimy windows. So many memories held in this space.
But when I reached for regret, I found none. Just gratitude for what this place had given me, and certainty about where I was going.
“Ready?” Tyrix asked softly.
I squeezed Kell’s hand one final time, nodded to Odra. “Ready.”
We stepped out into the corridor together, leaving the bar’s warmth behind. Through our shared bond, I felt Tyrix’s question - did I need a moment?
“No.” I took his hand, twining our fingers together. “Everything I need is right here.”
His answering surge of emotion made me smile. Together, we walked toward the docking bays where his ship waited. Toward whatever came next.
Behind us, the Rusted Horizon’s lights dimmed. But I didn’t look back. Some chapters had to end for others to begin.
And this one? This one was just getting started.