Aris
Christmas Eve morning. Hours left. The sun hangs low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the regolith.
I check my datapad one more time. Colony power status: fifteen percent.
“We’re out of time,” I say.
We reach the relay with our equipment. “Then we’d better make this work.”
We didn’t sleep much last night. Both too wired. Too aware of what today means. The relay is repaired. The coupling installed.
All that’s left is the final activation sequence.
Channel power through the systems. Restore transmission to the colony.
Simple.
Except for the part where Tynrax has to work directly at the relay station. Within one kilometer of the ruins. Where the amplification field is strongest. Where he’ll almost certainly lose control without an anchor.
“New plan,” I say. “I stay closer this time. Not just touching your shoulder or arm. Actually close.”
“How close?”
“Arms around you while you work. Pressed against your back. Can feel your breathing. That close.” I adjust my equipment pack. “If the contact stabilizes you, more contact should work better. Right?”
“In theory.”
“You have a better theory?”
“No.” He picks up his toolkit. “Let’s go save five thousand lives.”
The walk to the relay takes forever and no time at all. My hands won’t stop shaking. Keep clenching and unclenching around the strap of my pack.
Tynrax notices. Doesn’t comment. Just moves closer so our arms brush with each step.
The relay station sits silent. Waiting. Beyond it, the fissure of the ruins cut into the cliff. I can see Tynrax’s markings brightening already. The amplification field is a low hum in the air, and he’s only holding steady because my hand is a firm, grounding pressure on his arm.
“You ready for this?” I ask.
“No. But we’re doing it anyway.”
He sets up at the control panel. My brain screams that this is unprofessional, that it crosses a line we can’t uncross.
But my body moves anyway, acting on an instinct deeper than protocol.
I position myself behind him. Wrap my arms around his waist. Press my chest against his back.
Can feel his heartbeat through the layers of clothing. Fast but steady.
“Comfortable?” he asks.
“Comfortable enough. You?”
“I’ll manage.” His hands move to the control interface. “Starting the initialization sequence now.”
The relay hums to life. Energy flows through the systems we repaired. The sound builds. Low frequency that I can feel in my bones.
Tynrax’s markings brighten further. Violet light visible even in the afternoon sun.
“Talk to me,” I say. “Tell me what you’re doing.”
“Initializing primary systems. Checking power flow integrity.” His voice stays level. Controlled. “Bringing secondary systems online. Establishing connection to the transmission array.”
“You’re doing great. Keep going.”
His breathing changes. Faster. Shallower. The markings brighten more. Gold bleeding into violet at his temples.
I tighten my arms around him. “Stay with me. Focus on my voice. You’re here with me.”
“Primary systems online. Secondary systems responding. Beginning power integration sequence.”
The hum intensifies. The relay structure vibrates. Energy building toward the transmission threshold.
“Connect the blue conduit next,” I say. Narrating what I see on the display. Keeping him focused. “That’s it. Perfect. Now the green one.”
Thirty minutes pass. Then an hour. The work continues. My arms ache from holding him. Don’t care. His markings stay bright but controlled. Gold dominant. This is working.
“Almost there,” Tynrax says. “Just need to initialize the final power coupling. Then we activate transmission.”
“How long?”
“Ten minutes. Maybe less.”
His hands move across the interface. Fast. Certain. This is what he does. What he’s good at. Engineering problems with clear solutions.
The relay responds. Systems integrating. Power building toward critical threshold.
Then something goes wrong.
The hum spikes. Sharp. Wrong. The relay structure shudders. Alarms blare from the control panel.
“What’s happening?” I ask.
“Power surge. The coupling is overloading.” His hands fly across the controls. “I need to reroute the energy flow before it destroys the entire system.”
His markings flare brighter. White-hot. The amplification field responding to the energy surge. Feeding off it. I feel a tremor run through him, a low hum vibrating from his bones into my own. A sharp hiss escapes his teeth, as if the light itself is burning him from the inside out.
“Tynrax, you’re going pure white.”
“I know. I can feel it.” His voice comes out strained. “Just need another minute.”
But I can feel him changing. The muscles under my arms going rigid. His breathing turning harsh. Ragged.
“Stay with me,” I say. Desperate now. “Don’t go. I need you here.”
“Trying.” The word comes out distorted. “It’s too strong. Can’t...”
His markings become an unbearable glow that force my eyes shut.
He’s slipping away, dissolving into instinct and violence. Everything we tried isn’t enough. The partial anchoring. The physical contact. None of it matters against this level of amplification.
“Tynrax!” I’m shouting now. “Stay with me! Don’t you dare leave!”
He’s going feral and this time he might not come back.
I don’t think. Don’t plan. Just act on an instinct that bypassed logic entirely.
I spin him around. Away from the controls. Grab his face between my hands. And kiss him.
Pour everything into it. Every ounce of determination. Every bit of faith that he’s still in there somewhere. Every feeling I’ve been too scared to name.
He’s rigid for half a second. Shocked. Then his hands come up. Grip my waist. Too tight. Desperate. But present. Aware. Him.
The kiss deepens. His mouth moves against mine. Hungry. Certain. One hand slides from my waist to the back of my neck. Holding me close. Holding me like I’m the only solid thing in the universe.
Something shifts. Not physical. Deeper than that. Something in my chest that clicks into place and locks. A connection that wasn’t there before. Or was always there but hidden.
I can feel him. Not just his body against mine. Not just his hands on my waist and neck. But HIM. His fear shoots through the bond. His determination. His absolute refusal to lose control and hurt me.
His markings blaze but the color changes. White to gold. Pure gold light that washes over both of us.
We break apart. Breathing hard. Staring at each other.
Something shifts inside my chest, and not metaphorically. Literally. My pulse syncs with his, a sudden, shocking rhythm I’ve never noticed before. It’s not just his fear I feel; it’s the fierce, protective core of him, flooding into me like a tidal wave.
“What did we just...” I start.
“The bond,” he says, voice rough with awe. “We started it.”
I don’t know how a kiss could trigger a biological interlink. It makes no logical sense. But I know he’s right. I can feel the truth of it humming between us.
His eyes are clear. Silver-gold. No glow. No violet. Just him looking at me like I’ve done something impossible.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m here. You pulled me back.” He looks at me. Really looks at me. “I can feel you. In my head. Your emotions. Your thoughts.”
“I can feel you too.” And I can. His confusion mixing with relief mixing with something else. Something warm and certain and focused entirely on me.
“We should finish the relay,” I manage. “Before the power surge destroys everything.” Even with the bond stabilizing him, there’s a tremor in his left hand that won’t quite stop.
“Right. Yes. The relay.” But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t let go of me.
“Tynrax.”
“I know.” He releases my waist. Steps back. His hands slide away slowly. Reluctant. “The relay.”
He turns back to the controls. I move to stand beside him instead of behind him. Can’t quite bring myself to separate completely.
The work continues. But different now. We move together. He reaches for a control and I’m already pulling up the diagnostic he needs. I point to a readout and he’s already adjusting the parameters.
Perfect synchronization. Not because we planned it. Because we can feel each other. Know what the other needs before they ask.
The partial bond. Whatever that kiss triggered. It’s anchoring him completely now.
Twenty minutes later, the power surge is contained. Rerouted. The relay stabilizes. Energy flows smoothly through all systems.
“Ready for final activation,” Tynrax says.
“Do it.”