Chapter 6
A knock at the door woke me from my nap. The sparring match had drained me completely. I’d barely fallen into a dreamless sleep before someone I didn’t know—but already disliked—interrupted it.
I shuffled over and opened it.
Lyrin stood in the hallway.
My eyes went wide. "Oh. Hello. How might I assist you this fine evening?"
What was actually wrong with me?
A half-smile curved his lips as he held up a garment bag.
"The captain requests that you wear this tonight."
"What's tonight?" I asked, taking the bag.
"The Captain's Dinner. More specifically, the Tethered Table."
"Is somebody going to tell me what the Tethered is? Kaedren mentioned it earlier."
Lyrin winced. "Yes, your sparring match. That was an unexpected move."
I glanced down, then quickly back up. "Right, sorry. But the Tethered?"
"It isn't my place to say. You'll need to ask the captain." He bowed his head. "Dinner is in two hours. Kaedren will escort you."
He paused in the doorway. "Doctor Vale? The captain may seem severe tonight. He protects what he values."
"Should I be reassured or terrified?"
His half-smile returned. "Both may be appropriate."
He left before I could ask anything else.
Somehow, they had everything I needed to get ready. I wondered how many damsels in distress had lived in this same room—something to add to my list of questions for tonight.
The dress inside the bag was beautiful: a single-shoulder gown that bared my left arm, the fabric shimmering like liquid starlight. Galaxies drifted across the material—alive within the weave. When I brushed the fabric, constellations scattered and slowly reformed.
I slipped it on. The fabric molded to my body as if tailored specifically for me. The galaxies settled into a slow rotation across my hips and shoulders. Now I needed to know what this was made of, how I could get another, or three, dresses like this.
Another knock. I opened the door.
Kaedren stood there in a full military dress uniform—crisp white pants. A four-armed tuxedo jacket was spread tight across his massive upper shoulders. Gold buttons. Silver chains. My brain short-circuited.
"I am here to escort you to dinner, Doctor," he said, offering his lower-right arm. His eyes tracked the galaxies swirling across my dress, then lifted to my face. "You look... radiant."
I blushed and took his arm, hyperaware of the warmth of his skin through his jacket. I hadn't had this much attention from anyone in so long that I wasn't entirely sure whether to preen or panic.
Torvyn, Lyrin, and Vaelix all stood when I entered the dining room, the synchronized movement so fluid it looked choreographed.
It wasn't what I expected.
I'd braced for cold military efficiency—metallic surfaces and harsh lighting. Instead, yellow chandeliers cast honeyed light over mirror-polished metal walls. The long table was set with more silverware than I knew how to use, each piece reflecting the light like scattered stars.
Kaedren pulled out my chair, metal scraping metal, and I murmured thanks before sitting.
As the others took their seats, I couldn't help noticing they'd all dressed in full military regalia—uniforms identical except for the blood-red sash across Torvyn's chest and the subtle differences in rank insignia.
For a kidnapping, this was incredibly formal.
A small army of servers swept in, placing a rainbow of food and drink before us, then vanished.
Torvyn raised a glass. "To the Tethered Table."
"The Tethered Table," the others echoed.
I raised my glass too, but kept quiet. They sipped, so I did. A burst of tart flavor bloomed across my tongue—like cranberries and starfruit had a baby—my new favorite drink ever.
I lifted the glass for a decidedly un-classy second sip when Torvyn cleared his throat.
His disapproving look said everything. I set the glass down.
Vaelix's lips twitched. Was he... laughing at me?
"On behalf of the senior crew of the Starbreaker, I would like to welcome you formally," Torvyn said.
"I should be thanking you," I replied. "You saved me. Without you, I'd probably still be waiting for a corporate rescue."
Torvyn inclined his head. "We have done our best to replicate human cuisine. Our chef has not had many opportunities to prepare your delicacies. He offers a pre-emptive apology for anything he did not get right."
I looked at my plate. It resembled spaghetti… if spaghetti had blue meat sauce and pink noodles. I took a bite.
My mind exploded. Whatever this was, it tasted like comfort food and adventure had somehow merged—familiar enough to be nostalgic, alien enough to be thrilling.
"Compliments to the chef," I said. "The color palette is… creative, but the food is excellent."
They visibly relaxed. We ate in silence for a few moments. I was starting to think maybe this really was just a welcome dinner when Torvyn set down his fork.
"Tell me, Doctor. What were you researching?"
Here we go, I thought, sighing internally. I took another sip of the maybe-wine. "I was studying the archaeological ruins on the planet you found me on."
"For what purpose?"
I shrugged. "Ancient alien life fascinates me. Especially civilizations more advanced than humanity. That's why the corporation sent me."
"And what did they think you would find?" Torvyn's voice remained casual, but his eyes had sharpened.
"They hoped I would find something they could use." I took another bite of the not-spaghetti. "Corporate loves anything that might be monetizable."
"But you were searching for something else."
It wasn't a question.
I met his gaze. "I was searching for answers about who built the ruins. What they were like. Why they vanished."
"Noble pursuits." His tone suggested he didn't believe me.
Torvyn's eyes narrowed. "What did you find?"
"Honestly? Nothing too exciting. Probably why my director wasn't in a hurry to fix my habitat or send help."
"Is that the answer your company instructed you to give, if asked?" His voice darkened.
"No. Nobody tells me what to say." Heat rose up my neck. "And I don't appreciate the implication that I'm some corporate puppet reading from a script."
"Your reports suggest you found an alien artifact. An energy matrix of some kind. Is that correct?"
"I found several artifacts. That's what happens at archaeological sites."
"Don't be coy, Doctor Vale. You know which one I mean."
"You intercepted my private logs?" My voice sharpened. "Seriously?"
"I will go to any length necessary to protect this ship and crew.
" He leaned forward, the candlelight casting shadows across his angular features.
"From what I have seen, you are brilliant, strong, and cunning.
I think you found something important—something my people have sought for a very long time. "
"I didn't know that. I'd never even heard of the Zorathi until I met you."
"So you say," he shot back.
"I believe her," Vaelix said quietly—but his voice carried through the room.
Torvyn glared at him. Kaedren and Lyrin suddenly found their plates extremely interesting.
I could have cut the tension with a butterknife.
Torvyn leaned toward Vaelix, locking eyes. "This is a serious breach of protocol."
" I mean no disrespect, Captain. But her research goes beyond the artifact. When I ran one of her experiments in the astrolab, she spotted a flaw instantly. When she corrected it… something happened."
Torvyn's voice sharpened. "What happened?"
"It began." Vaelix's grey eyes found mine across the table. "I felt the resonance. Saw the pathways forming."
Torvyn went absolutely still. "How do you know?"
"I saw her mind. I felt the pull."
A chill ran down my spine. "You saw my what?"
But Torvyn ignored me, his full attention on Vaelix. "Did you…?"
"Almost. But no. I broke contact before the threshold."
Kaedren stood abruptly, his chair scraping back. He stood behind me, his hand resting on my chair—close enough that I felt his heat.
"She is not to be left unguarded."
It wasn't a threat. It was a promise—warm, protective, fierce.
Something sparked in my chest, an ember catching flame. Warmth rippled outward, and suddenly I could feel them—not physically, but something deeper.
I looked up at Kaedren and smiled despite myself. He smiled back, and the ember blazed hotter.
The room shifted.
Lyrin gasped softly. Vaelix's hands tightened on the table's edge. Even Torvyn's expression changed, pupils dilating as if he'd just stepped from bright light into darkness.
The galaxies on my dress began to spin faster.
I exhaled sharply, and the strange warmth receded—not gone, just... banked like coals waiting to be stirred.
"I don't know what's happening right now, but it feels like an interrogation dressed up as a fancy dinner. Let's remember why I'm here. You kidnapped me. You won't tell me what you want. You are pirates. Let's not pretend this is some noble endeavor."
The table froze.
Torvyn set his knife and fork down with deliberate precision. The chandeliers flickered—or maybe it was my imagination.
Kaedren stepped back, but his hand lingered near my shoulder for one more second.
Vaelix and Lyrin bowed their heads as if in prayer.
A different energy filled the room—ancient, heavy, electric. The air itself seemed to thicken. I felt pressure building in my ears, like descending too fast into the atmosphere in a shuttle.
Torvyn rose and walked toward me, and with each step, he seemed to grow larger. Not physically—but presence-wise. Like reality bent slightly around him, acknowledging something I couldn't quite see.
"We are not pirates, Doctor Vale. We are the Tethered. The Knights of Zorathi. Protectors of the Reach."
He stopped beside my chair and looked down at me. I met his gaze—and saw.
Not with my eyes. With something else.
For a heartbeat, I glimpsed armor blazing like dying stars, battlefields stretching across dimensions, and four figures standing against a darkness with teeth and hunger—a golden thread binding them.
Then it was gone, and I was just staring at a tall alien in a military uniform.
But my hands were shaking.
"Why should I believe you?" I whispered.
"You shouldn't. You do not yet understand what I have just told you. But you will learn—and your education begins now."
He reached out as if to touch my shoulder, then thought better of it. His hand fell to his side.
He turned and strode toward the door.
I glanced at Kaedren. "Did I just insult all of you?"
"Yes," he said gently, motioning for me to stand. "But you're not the first to mistake us for something we're not." His lower-left hand brushed my elbow—steadying, gentle. "And you won't be the last."
I sighed. Here I was—locked on a spaceship with four impossibly attractive aliens who saved me, fed me, and gave me a dress made of actual galaxies…and I’d repaid them by calling them pirates.
Great job, Kira.
You are absolutely crushing this.
The galaxies on my dress had stopped spinning and hung motionless against the fabric, like stars holding their breath.