Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The summons came just after dawn.
Becsul had been watching Melissa sleep, her dark hair spilling across his arm like water, her breath warm against his skin.
Robbie had only stirred once in the night, a soft whimper quickly soothed by her murmured reassurances, and then settled back into dreams. For a few hours, wrapped in their shared warmth, he had allowed himself to forget their situation.
Then the door chimed.
He extracted himself carefully, tucking the thin blanket around her shoulders before crossing to the door. The guard on the other side—not the obnoxious one, thankfully—handed him a datapad without comment.
Captain Becsul. Report to my quarters at your earliest convenience. —Councilor Naran vel’Rendar
At his earliest convenience. As if he had any choice in the matter.
He glanced back at Melissa, still sleeping, and felt something clench in his chest. Five days. Maybe less. He’d been so close to having everything mapped out, so close to—
Focus, he told himself. Naran doesn’t suspect anything. This could even be useful.
He dressed quickly, checked on Robbie one last time, and slipped out of the cell.
Naran had taken over the commander’s quarters on the upper level of the facility, far from the clinical sterility of the labs and holding cells below.
The ancient stone walls had been left exposed here, their surface carved with warrior symbols that dated back to the Founding Wars.
Tapestries depicting great battles hung between mounted weapons that were more decorative than functional.
It was a calculated display of heritage and power, designed to remind visitors exactly who they were dealing with.
It no longer impressed him.
“Captain.” Naran rose from behind an ornate desk as Becsul entered, his smile as polished as the ceremonial blade displayed on the wall behind him. “Thank you for coming so promptly.”
“Councilor.” He inclined his head, neither too deep nor too shallow. The precise angle of respect owed to a superior, but not submission. “You wished to see me?”
“I did. Please, sit.” Naran gestured to a chair across from the desk, then settled back into his own seat. “I’ve been reviewing Dr. Veyalor’s reports. Your progress with the human female has been… impressive.”
“Thank you, Councilor.”
“Veyalor believes you may be ready to proceed with the insemination within the week.”
Naran studied him with unsettling intensity, but he kept his expression neutral. “I was not aware that a timeline had been established.”
“We’ve moved things forward. The Council grows impatient for results.”
The Council. He noted the word choice but didn’t comment. In all his discreet inquiries, he’d found no evidence that the full Council was aware of this facility’s true purpose. Naran had powerful allies, certainly, but the breeding program appeared to be his personal initiative.
“The female will need to be prepared,” he said carefully. “Both physically and mentally. If she is distressed during the procedure—”
“Veyalor has sedatives for that.”
Something cold slithered down his spine. “Sedatives.”
“A mild relaxant. Nothing that would harm the fetus.” Naran waved a dismissive hand. “The female’s comfort is secondary to the objective.”
“With respect, Councilor, my research suggests that maternal stress hormones can affect embryonic development. If we want the best possible outcome—”
“A positive outcome is all that is necessary at this point. We’ll have more subjects to work with.” Naran’s smile didn’t waver, but something sharp glittered in his eyes. “Which brings me to why I summoned you.”
He waited, trying to ignore the dread shivering down his spine.
“Assuming this trial is successful—and I have every confidence it will be—we’ll need to expand the program significantly.
” Naran rose and crossed to a small cabinet, retrieving a bottle of amber liquid and two glasses.
“The survival of our species cannot rest on a single breeding pair, no matter how promising the results.”
“Expand how?”
“More subjects. More facilities. More…” He paused, pouring the drinks. “Inventory.”
Inventory. As if they were discussing cargo ships and supply chains, not living beings.
“Where would we acquire additional subjects?” He kept his voice level, accepting the glass Naran pressed into his hand. “You obtained these females from Vedeckian traders…”
“Correct. And the Vedeckians have access to many more.” Naran returned to his seat, swirling the liquid in his glass with a satisfied expression.
“I’ve already opened negotiations for a larger shipment.
Assuming proof of concept is established, they’ve agreed to provide as many as fifty females within the first cycle. ”
Fifty.
Fifty human females, torn from their lives and families to be bred like livestock in underground facilities. Fifty mothers-to-be, subjected to Naran’s calculated indifference. His hand tightened around his glass, and the crystal creaked dangerously.
Veyalor hasn’t told him about the bond, he realized. But will it make any difference?
“That seems… ambitious,” he managed.
“Ambition is what separates leaders from followers, Captain.” Naran’s gaze sharpened. “You seem troubled. Surely you understand the necessity.”
“I understand the goal of preserving our species.” He chose his words with exacting care. “I question whether such rapid expansion is wise. We don’t yet know the long-term viability of hybrid offspring. We don’t know what resources they’ll require, what complications might arise—”
“That’s why we need volume.” Naran’s smile had vanished. “Science requires data. Data requires samples. Sentiment has no place in survival.”
Sentiment. As if the lives of the females were nothing more than emotional weakness to be overcome.
“And the females themselves?” He couldn’t stop the question. “What happens to them after they’ve… served their purpose?”
Naran’s expression flickered. Something cold and calculating passed behind his eyes before it smoothed into neutrality. “That will be determined by circumstances. The healthy ones may prove useful for multiple cycles. The others…” He shrugged. “Resources are allocated according to value.”
The others.
He thought of Melissa’s dark eyes, her fierce determination, the way she held Robbie like she could protect him from the universe through sheer force of will.
He thought of the other two human females he’d met, frightened and alone in their cells.
He thought of fifty more, ripped from their world to fuel Naran’s grand experiment.
And he knew, with crystalline clarity, that he would burn this entire facility to the ground before he let that happen.
“I appreciate you sharing your plans with me, Councilor.” His voice came out steady. A small miracle. “It helps to understand the larger picture.”
“Does it?” Naran’s eyes hadn’t left his face. “You seem less than enthusiastic.”
“I’m focused on the current objective. As you instructed.”
“Indeed.” Naran set down his glass with a soft click. “I selected you for this assignment very carefully, Captain. Did you know that?”
“You said you chose me because of my record, my loyalty, and my time in the labs.”
“All of which is true, but that wasn’t the primary consideration.
” Naran rose and crossed to the window, gazing out at the wilderness beyond the facility’s walls.
“I chose you because you have no connections. No family remaining. No political allies. No one who would ask inconvenient questions about your posting.”
The words landed like stones dropping into still water, sending ripples of understanding through his mind.
“You chose me because I’m isolated.”
“I chose you because you’re controllable.” Naran turned back, his expression cold. “Whatever romantic notions you’ve developed about the human female are irrelevant. She is a resource. You are a tool. Tools don’t develop attachments to resources.”
He said nothing.
“I’ve tolerated your questions because your instincts have proven useful in ensuring the female’s compliance.
But make no mistake, Captain.” Naran stepped closer, his voice dropping to something barely above a whisper.
“If you become more trouble than you’re worth, you will be replaced.
And the female will be given to someone far less… gentle.”
The threat hung in the air between them, sharp as a blade.
“Do we understand each other?”
“Perfectly, Councilor.”
“Good.” The warmth returned to Naran’s voice as quickly as it had vanished, leaving Becsul with a disorienting sense of whiplash. “Then I look forward to your continued success. You’re dismissed.”
He walked through the corridors in a daze, his mind racing even as his body moved on autopilot.
He’d always known the facility was wrong.
From the moment Naran first explained the experiment, some part of him had recognized the moral rot at its core.
But he’d told himself it was necessary. He’d told himself the survival of his species justified the means.
He’d told himself that being here, doing what little he could to ease the suffering of the females, was better than leaving them entirely to Naran’s mercy.
Lies, he thought bitterly. Pretty lies I told myself so I could sleep at night.
But that was before Melissa.
Before her courage and her fire and the way she looked at him like he was something more than a tool to be used and discarded.
Before Robbie’s small hand curled around his finger, trusting him completely despite every reason not to.
Before he understood what it meant to love something more than his own survival.
He stopped in an empty corridor, pressing his palm against the ancient stone wall. The carvings beneath his fingers depicted a scene from the Founding Wars—warriors standing against impossible odds, choosing death before dishonor.