4. Hakan
Hakan
Ifind a small cave tucked into an outcropping of rock about half a kilometer from the lab. It's not ideal — barely large enough for both of us — but it's defensible and well-hidden behind a curtain of hanging vines.
"Wait here," I tell Daisy as I check the interior for threats. "I'll be back before dawn."
"You're leaving now?" There's an edge in her voice that she's trying to hide.
"The darkness provides cover. It's the best time to infiltrate the lab."
She wraps her arms around herself, and I can see her fighting between the fear of being left alone and the knowledge that arguing won't change my mind.
"Be careful," she finally says.
Her concern for me does something to my chest. Something I don't want to examine too closely.
"I will."
I turn to leave, forcing myself not to look back at her small figure in the cave entrance. I need to focus. The mission is what matters. Learning what the Grokkans are doing with their wormhole technology, gathering intelligence for the Commander — these things are critical.
Not the way Daisy’s eyes reflect the bioluminescent glow of the jungle. Not the soft curve of her mouth or the way she bites her lower lip when she's nervous.
I'm halfway to the lab when I hear it — the soft rustle of leaves behind me that's too rhythmic to be the wind, too deliberate to be a jungle creature.
I spin around, blade already manifesting in my hand, and find Daisy pushing through the undergrowth toward me.
"What are you doing?" I demand, keeping my voice low. "I told you to stay in the cave."
"I know what you told me." She's breathing hard from trying to keep up. "But something was rustling around out there. Something big. And I decided that being with you — even if you're breaking into a secret lab — was way safer than being alone with whatever was making that noise."
I want to argue and send her back. But she's right — the jungle at night is full of predators, and she has no way to defend herself.
"Stay close," I finally say. "Stay quiet. And do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you. Understood?"
"Understood."
I lead her through the jungle, moving as quietly as possible. The lab is ahead, its buildings dark except for a few security lights. Most of the staff will be sleeping — the Grokkans and Virdathians keep similar sleep rhythms, active during the day and resting at night.
We reach the perimeter and I pause, listening. The jungle sounds continue around us — clicks and whistles and the occasional distant roar — but nothing that suggests we've been detected.
The nearest building is about thirty meters away across open ground. Too exposed. But there's a service entrance on the far side that appears to be less monitored.
I gesture for Daisy to follow and we circle around, staying low. When we reach the service entrance, I examine the door's locking mechanism — standard Grokkan technology, keyed to specific genetic signatures.
Fortunately, I don't need a key.
I press my hand against the door and focus, drawing on my hassana bands.
The golden metal grows warm against my skin, and I feel the familiar surge of energy as my need vibrates through them.
The air around my hands shimmers, and suddenly I'm holding a small cylindrical device — a bio-signature spoofer that I’ve manifested many times over the years.
Daisy gasps softly behind me. "How did you —"
“My hassana bands," I murmur. "They allow me to manifest what I need, when I need it. It requires focus and energy, but..."
The spoofer hums against the door's lock, cycling through genetic signatures until it finds a match. The lock clicks open.
"That's incredible," Daisy whispers.
I let go of the spoofer and it dissolves back into energy, absorbed by my hassana. I ease the door open, checking for guards or sensors.
The corridor beyond is empty. Dimly lit. Silent except for the hum of environmental systems.
"Stay behind me," I tell Daisy. "And don’t touch anything."
We slip inside.
The lab is exactly as I expected — sterile, efficient, designed for function over comfort. The walls are the same pale gray metal as the exterior, the floor some kind of composite material that doesn't echo our footsteps. Everything is clean. Organized. Soulless.
We move down the corridor, passing closed doors. We’re in the residential section — sleeping quarters for the staff.
I need to find the research areas. The data storage. Anything that will tell me what they're working on.
Using my hassana again, I manifest a data storage unit — a floating globe about the size of my palm that can interface with most common systems. It takes more energy than the spoofer, and I feel the drain as the device forms in my hand.
"What's that?" Daisy whispers.
"Data collector. It will scan and download whatever information it can access."
We find a terminal in what appears to be a common area — a space with tables and chairs, a food preparation station, a large display screen on one wall. I press the data collector against the terminal and watch as it begins its work, lights flickering across its surface.
While we wait, I scan our surroundings. This place feels wrong. Too quiet. Too clean.
What are they hiding?
The data collector pulses — download complete. I signal for it to follow us, and then Daisy and I head deeper into the facility.
The corridor ends at a heavy security door marked with warning symbols.
"That looks like it's supposed to keep people out," Daisy observes.
"Exactly."
The security on this door is more sophisticated — multiple locks, biometric scanners, what looks like a neural authentication system. It takes me several minutes and significant energy drain to manifest the tools I need to bypass them all.
By the time the door opens, my hassana are warm to the touch and I'm breathing hard.
"Are you okay?" Daisy asks, noticing my fatigue.
"Fine. Just ... it takes energy to manifest objects. I'll recover."
The corridor beyond the security door is different — darker, colder, with a faint chemical smell in the air, lined with windows looking into what appear to be laboratories.
Most are empty. But as we move down the corridor, we start seeing specimen tanks containing creatures I don't recognize, suspended in viscous fluid, along with equipment whose purpose I can only guess at.
And — my jaw tightens — containment cells.
"Oh my God," Daisy breathes beside me. "Are those ... are those prison cells?"
"Looks like it."
We move closer to the first cell. Inside is a creature — some kind of reptilian species I’m not familiar with, huddled in the corner, its scales dull and patchy. It doesn't react to our presence.
The next cell contains what might be a Verran — the green skin and hair are right, but this being is emaciated, weak, barely moving.
"Are they experimenting on them?” Daisy asks, her voice shaking with disbelief.
Anger twists my gut. “It seems so.”
We pass more cells. More prisoners. Some I recognize — a Devorran whose shapeshifting abilities seem to have failed, leaving him stuck in a half-formed state. A Javardian whose gentle nature has been twisted into constant trembling fear.
All of them are in very bad shape.
And when we reach the cell at the end of the corridor, my blood boils.
Inside are two children.
They can't be more than nine years old — small, thin, with pale orange skin and soft green hair that seems to shimmer even in the dim light. Their large orange eyes are closed, but as we approach, both of their heads snap up in unison.
*Help us,* a voice says — not aloud, but directly in my mind. *Please, you have to help us.*
"Andreevan," I breathe.
"What?" Daisy is staring at the children, her hand pressed to her temple. "I can ... I can hear them. In my head. How is that possible?"
"They're telepathic,” I explain. “Andreevans are born with the ability.
" I move closer to the cell, studying the lock.
The boys appear to be identical twins, watching us with desperate hope in their eyes.
"They're from a nearly vanished species.
Hunted for their abilities — viewed as both a tool and a threat. "
*You can hear us,* one of the boys sends, his mental voice tinged with surprise and relief. *Both of you can hear us.*
*Please,* the other says. *The scientists are doing tests and hurting us. We want to go home. We want Grandfather.*
Daisy's eyes fill with tears. "We have to get them out of here."
I'm already figuring out how. The other prisoners are too weak to bring with us, but the children — the chidren I can save. ”I know."
"I'm serious, Hakan. We can't leave children in this place. I don't care what your mission is or what your orders are. We're not leaving without them."
I look at her — this soft, curvy human female with fierce determination blazing in her green eyes — and feel something shift in my chest.
"I wasn't planning to leave them," I tell her quietly. "I would never leave children to suffer."
Relief floods through her. "Okay. Good. How do we get them out?"
The lock on their cell is similar to the main security door — multiple systems, redundant failsafes. But I'm getting better at reading Grokkan technology, and my hassana still have some energy left.
I work quickly, manifesting the tools I need, bypassing each system one by one. The drain is significant — by the time the lock disengages, I'm lightheaded and my hassana are almost too hot to touch.
But the door swings open.
The twin boys scramble out, their thin arms wrapping around my legs. Their mental voices are a jumble of gratitude, fear, and desperate hope.
*Thank you thank you thank you —*
*You came for us —*
*We knew someone would come —*
*Grandfather said to never give up hope —*
"Shh," Daisy says gently, kneeling down to their level. "It's okay. We're going to get you out of here. But you need to be very quiet, okay? Can you do that?"
The boys nod, their orange eyes wide and solemn.
I'm about to tell them to follow me when I hear it — a sharp intake of breath from behind us.
I spin around to find a Grokkan scientist standing in the corridor, staring at us with an expression of shock that's rapidly transforming into alarm.
His mouth opens to shout.
I move before he can make a sound, crossing the distance between us in three strides. My fist connects with his jaw and he drops like a stone, unconscious before he hits the floor.
Somewhere in the facility, an alarm begins to wail.
"Run!" I grab one boy, then the other, lifting them into my arms.
We sprint back down the corridor, Daisy following, as lights flash, as doors open, and voices shout out.
The security door we came through is still open — thank the ancestors — and we burst through it. Behind us, I can hear footsteps and orders being barked.
We hit the main corridor at a full run. The service entrance is ahead, and beyond it, the jungle and safety —
A Virdathian steps out of a side room, weapon raised.
I don't slow down. I leap into the air and land on him, feet first, knocking him to the floor with crushing force. His weapon discharges, the shot going wide and scorching a hole in the ceiling. Before he can get up, I slam my boot onto his neck and hear a satisfying crack.
"Go!" I shout at Daisy. "Get to the door!"
She runs and I’m right behind, the boys holding tight to my neck, their hearts racing against mine.
We burst through the service entrance into the night. The jungle looms before us, dark and wild and full of danger, but right now it's salvation.
"Don't stop!" I tell Daisy as we plunge into the undergrowth. "Keep running!"
Behind us, the lab erupts with activity — more alarms, shouted orders, the whine of weapons powering up.
But we're already gone, swallowed by the jungle's embrace.
We run until the sounds of pursuit fade behind us, until the only sounds are our ragged breathing and the endless symphony of the jungle night.
Finally, when I'm certain we're not being followed, I slow to a stop in a small clearing. Daisy collapses against a tree, gasping for breath. I set the children down and do a quick scan of our surroundings.
No signs of pursuit. For the moment, at least, we're safe.
I hear a soft hum and watch a glow approaching us in the jungle and breathe a sigh of relief — the data globe made it out of the lab intact. When it reaches me, it transforms into a thin card. I pluck it from the air and slip it into a hidden storage slot in my boot.
*Thank you,* one of the boys sends, his mental voice soft and grateful. *Thank you for saving us.*
Daisy smiles through her exhaustion, her hand gentle on the child's green hair. "Of course we saved you. You're safe now."
We’re not safe now. We need to keep moving. But as I witness the compassion in her eyes as she comforts these two frightened children, I feel something I haven't felt in five years.
Not just protectiveness. Not just attraction.
Something deeper. Something that shakes me more than any Grokkan weapon ever could.