Chapter 23 #2
“Your happiness matters to me.”
“I know. And yours matters to me.” She took Robbie back, settling him against her shoulder. “So here’s what I think: we figure out what the Patrol has to say first. Then we figure out our options. And then we make decisions together. Deal?”
“Deal.”
It was such a human word. Such a human concept—negotiation between equals, partnership rather than hierarchy. His training had prepared him for command structures and chain of authority, not for the collaborative decision-making of a mated pair.
I am learning, he thought. She is teaching me.
The ship shuddered slightly as the docking protocols engaged, and Trevan’s voice crackled over the internal comm.
“All passengers, please gather in the main cargo bay for disembarkation. We’ll be boarding the station in approximately ten minutes.”
Melissa took a deep breath. “Here we go.”
“Here we go,” he agreed.
The cargo bay was crowded with their small group—Sarah holding Katie’s hand, Wei-Lin standing slightly apart with her arms crossed, Koss bouncing nervously on his heels. Captain Trevan stood by the external hatch, his face impassive as the docking clamps engaged with a series of heavy thuds.
“Remember,” he said, addressing them all, “you are witnesses, not criminals. You have done nothing wrong. Answer their questions honestly, but do not volunteer information beyond what is asked.”
“Standard interrogation protocols,” Wei-Lin said dryly. “I’m familiar.”
“I’m sure you are.” Trevan’s cybernetic eye flickered. “Dr. Desai, you should take the lead as spokesperson for the group. You are articulate, sympathetic, and—forgive me—human. The Patrol will find it easier to relate to you.”
Melissa nodded, her jaw set with determination.
Becsul felt a surge of pride at her composure.
She had been a prisoner, an experimental subject, a mother protecting her child in impossible circumstances.
Now she was stepping into the role of leader with the same quiet strength she brought to everything.
I chose well, he thought. Or perhaps she chose me. Either way, I am fortunate.
The hatch hissed open, revealing a boarding corridor illuminated by cold white light. A Patrol officer stood waiting—a tall, blue-skinned Velorian in the distinctive grey uniform of Galactic Patrol enforcement. His expression was professionally neutral.
“Welcome to Korinth-7,” he said, his voice flat and formal. “I am Officer Delvan. You will follow me to processing, where your statements will be recorded. Please keep your hands visible at all times and do not deviate from the marked path.”
“Friendly,” Wei-Lin muttered.
They filed out of the cargo bay in a loose group, following Officer Delvan through the boarding corridor and into the station proper. The air was recycled and sterile, carrying the faint tang of disinfectant. Overhead, surveillance devices tracked their progress with mechanical precision.
Becsul kept Melissa and Robbie close, his senses alert for any sign of threat.
The station hummed with activity—officers moving purposefully through corridors, civilians waiting in designated areas, maintenance drones crawling along walls and ceilings.
It was orderly, efficient, and utterly impersonal.
A machine for processing problems, he thought. And we are the latest problems to be processed.
They passed through a security checkpoint—scanners confirming their identities, automated systems logging their biometrics—and then into a larger chamber that appeared to be a reception area of some kind.
Benches lined the walls, and several other groups sat waiting, their expressions ranging from bored to anxious.
“Wait here,” Officer Delvan said. “Station Captain Veyros will see you shortly.”
He departed without further explanation, leaving them standing in the middle of the reception area with no clear sense of what came next.
“I don’t like this,” Sarah said quietly, pulling Katie closer.
“It’s procedure,” Trevan said. “They process everything through official channels. It takes time.”
“Time we may not have,” Wei-Lin said. “If Naran has allies here—”
“He does not control the Patrol.” But Becsul’s voice held less certainty than he would have liked. Naran was a Councilor. He had connections throughout Cire space and beyond. If he had chosen to act preemptively…
The minutes stretched. Robbie grew fussy, and Melissa walked with him in slow circles, humming a tune Becsul didn’t recognize. Katie asked for water, and Sarah found a dispenser along one wall. Wei-Lin remained motionless, her eyes tracking every movement in the room.
And then a door at the far end of the chamber slid open, and a new figure emerged.
She was Terellian—tall and angular, with iridescent purple scales that caught the light as she moved. Her uniform bore the insignia of station captain, and her expression was sharp with intelligence and something else. Wariness, perhaps. Or calculation.
“I am Captain Veyros,” she said, her voice carrying easily across the chamber. “Which of you is Becsul nak’Larentar?”
Becsul stepped forward, his spine straightening instinctively. “I am.”
“Mmm.” She studied him for a long moment, her amber eyes unreadable. “You’ve created quite a situation, Captain Becsul. Quite a situation indeed.”
“I have done what I believed was right.”
“Have you?” She produced a datapad from somewhere within her uniform, scrolling through information he couldn’t see.
“Because according to this, you are wanted by the Cire Council for treason, theft of classified materials, destruction of government property, and—” She paused, her eyes flicking up to meet his. “—kidnapping.”
Behind him, Melissa made a sharp sound of protest. “He didn’t kidnap anyone. He rescued us.”
“So you say.” Captain Veyros’s attention shifted to Melissa, assessing her with the same clinical detachment.
“And you are Dr. Melissa Desai, formerly of Earth, currently listed as a missing person in human databases and—interestingly—as experimental subject M-7 in certain Cire records that recently came to our attention.”
“Experimental subject.” Melissa’s voice was flat with controlled fury. “Yes. That’s what they called us. Subjects. Not people. Not victims. Subjects.”
“I am aware of the terminology.” Veyros’s tone softened fractionally.
“And I am aware of the circumstances that brought you here. What I am trying to establish is the official sequence of events, which is complicated considerably by the fact that Councilor Naran vel’Rendar has filed a formal complaint against Captain Becsul. ”
The words hit Becsul like a physical blow. He had expected retaliation—Naran was not the type to accept defeat quietly—but the speed of it surprised him.
“What is the nature of the complaint?” he asked, keeping his voice steady.
“Multiple charges. Treason, as I mentioned. Sabotage of a classified research facility. Assault on Cire personnel. Theft of government property—that would be the supply ship you escaped on.” She scrolled through more information.
“And the most serious: conspiracy to undermine Cire reproductive security by destroying vital research materials and absconding with irreplaceable subjects.”
“Irreplaceable subjects.” The words tasted bitter. “He means the women he kidnapped and imprisoned.”
“He means exactly that.” Veyros lowered the datapad. “The Councilor has requested your immediate extradition to Cire custody. He has also requested that the human subjects be returned to the facility for their own ‘safety and medical care.’“
“No.” Becsul’s tail lashed behind him, his control slipping. “Absolutely not. They are not going back there.”
“I haven’t agreed to anything.” Veyros held up a hand, forestalling further protest. “I am informing you of the situation as it stands. Formal complaints have been filed. Counter-statements will need to be made. Evidence will need to be presented. This is not going to be resolved quickly or easily.”
“But they’re safe?” Melissa asked. “We’re safe here? He can’t just… take us?”
“The Patrol does not hand over potential witnesses to interested parties without due process.” Veyros’s voice was firm. “Whatever else happens, you will have the opportunity to tell your side of the story. All of you.”
Some of the tension drained from Melissa’s shoulders. Not all of it—not nearly all of it—but enough that Becsul could see her gathering herself, preparing for the fight ahead.
“Then let us tell it,” she said. “Let us tell everyone what really happened in that facility. What they did to us. What they planned to do.”
“That is exactly what I intend.” Captain Veyros gestured towards the door she had emerged from. “If you will follow me, we have much to discuss.”
They began to move, their small group following the station captain into the unknown bureaucratic depths of Korinth-7. But as Becsul passed through the doorway, Veyros caught his arm.
“A word of caution, Captain Becsul.”
He stopped, meeting her amber eyes. “Yes?”
“Councilor Naran is well-connected. He has allies throughout the Council and beyond. His complaint is already generating attention in certain circles—circles that would prefer the details of this situation remain… obscure.”
“Obscure.”
“Hidden. Buried. Forgotten.” Her grip tightened fractionally.
“There are those who believe the survival of the Cire species justifies any action, any cost. They will not thank you for exposing what was done in that facility. And they will not hesitate to silence those who might threaten their goals.”
“I am aware of the dangers.”
“Are you?” She released his arm. “Because this is not a military engagement, Captain. This is politics. And politics has a way of destroying even the most righteous warriors.”
She turned and walked away, leaving him standing in the doorway with the weight of her warning settling onto his shoulders.
Politics, he thought grimly. I have never been skilled at politics.
But for Melissa, for Robbie, for the family he had found against all odds—he would learn.
He would learn, or he would die trying.