Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“None of us are going back.”
Becsul watched Melissa’s face as she processed the words. Relief flickered there, followed quickly by something warmer—connection, perhaps. Solidarity. These women had survived together, and now they would build new lives together. Or at least, they would try.
“Wei-Lin?” Melissa asked, turning to the quieter woman who sat cross-legged on one of the utilitarian bunks.
“I spoke with Captain Veyros this morning.” Wei-Lin’s expression was thoughtful, her dark eyes distant. “She offered me a position with the Patrol. Intelligence analysis, initially, with the possibility of field work once I’ve completed training.”
“The Patrol.” Sarah raised an eyebrow. “That’s… not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?” Wei-Lin’s smile was thin but genuine. “That I would find a quiet corner somewhere and try to forget what happened? I cannot forget. And if I cannot forget, then I will use what I learned to help others.”
Becsul felt a swell of respect for the small human woman. He had noticed her watchfulness during their escape, the way she catalogued details and filed them away for later use. She would make an excellent intelligence analyst.
“What about you two?” Wei-Lin asked, looking between Sarah and Melissa. “What do you want?”
Sarah pressed a kiss to Katie’s hair. “I want somewhere safe for my daughter. Somewhere with good schools and fresh air and people who won’t look at her like she’s… different.” Her voice caught. “I want her to have a normal life. Or as normal as possible, given everything.”
“And you?” Wei-Lin’s gaze settled on Melissa.
Becsul’s mate was quiet for a long moment, her attention focused on Robbie where he lay sleeping in the portable crib the station had provided. The soft rise and fall of the infant’s chest, the tiny curl of his fingers against the blanket—he found himself mesmerized by the sight, even now.
My family, he thought. My future.
“I want to work,” she said finally. “I spent my whole career trying to help people build families. That hasn’t changed just because I’m on the other side of the galaxy.
” She looked up, meeting his eyes. “I want to make a difference. I want Robbie to grow up knowing that his mother didn’t let fear stop her from doing something meaningful. ”
Pride swelled in his chest. This is why I love her.
“Captain Veyros mentioned something yesterday,” he said, speaking for the first time since the conversation began. “A planet called Trevelor.”
“Trevelor?” Sarah frowned. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“A small world, relatively untouched by the Red Death. The captain said it has an advanced medical facility—one of the best in this sector.” He paused, considering how to frame the next part. “She also mentioned that several other Cire have settled there.”
The silence that followed was weighted with unspoken questions. Becsul understood their hesitation. After everything they had endured at Cire hands, the thought of living alongside his people must seem troubling at best.
“Not all Cire support what Naran did,” he said quietly. “Many of us are… lost. Looking for new paths forward. Trevelor has become something of a haven for those who don’t fit neatly into the Council’s vision of our future.”
“Exiles?” Melissa asked.
“Some. Others simply chose to leave. The empty cities, the failing artificial wombs, the constant grief…” He shook his head. “It weighs on you. Some of us needed distance to find hope again.”
Sarah shifted Katie to her other hip. “And this medical facility—it would be a good place for Melissa to work?”
“The captain seemed to think so. She offered to arrange transport if we’re interested.”
Melissa and Sarah exchanged a look—one of those wordless communications that women seemed to share effortlessly. Becsul had noticed it before, the way they could convey entire conversations with a raised eyebrow or a tilted head. He found it both fascinating and slightly intimidating.
“I think,” Melissa said slowly, “that we should at least take a look.”
The journey to Trevelor took six standard days aboard the same cargo vessel that had carried them to Korinth-7. Captain Drex welcomed them back with the gruff warmth that seemed to be his default setting, clearing out two of the smaller cargo holds to create temporary living quarters.
“Not luxury accommodations,” he admitted, gesturing at the hastily assembled bunks and portable furniture. “But better than sleeping on crates.”
“It’s perfect.” Melissa squeezed his arm as she passed, and Becsul noticed the way the old captain’s scales flushed slightly at the contact. She had that effect on people—a warmth that drew others in despite their better judgment.
The days passed in a rhythm that felt almost domestic.
Meals taken together in the ship’s cramped galley.
Games played on borrowed datapads while the children napped.
Long conversations that ranged from the mundane to the profound, building connections that Becsul suspected would last far longer than their time aboard this vessel.
He found himself watching Melissa constantly—the way she laughed at something Sarah said, the gentle competence with which she cared for Robbie, the thoughtful attention she paid to everyone around her.
Every moment, every gesture, only deepened his certainty that fate had brought them together for a reason.
On the fourth night, after Robbie had finally settled into sleep, they lay together in the narrow bunk that served as their bed. The ship’s engines hummed a low counterpoint to their breathing, a mechanical lullaby that Becsul had grown strangely fond of.
“Tell me about Trevelor,” Melissa murmured against his chest. “What do you actually know?”
“Only what Captain Veyros told me. It has a temperate climate, a stable government, and a strong emphasis on education and medicine.” He paused, his tail curling around her waist. “And apparently, a small but growing Cire population.”
“How do you feel about that? Living near other Cire?”
It was a fair question. He considered it carefully before answering.
“I spent my entire adult life serving my people. Following orders. Believing that the Council knew best, that their vision for our future was the only possible path.” His jaw tightened. “Naran used that loyalty. He manipulated my devotion to our species into something… corrupt.”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“Perhaps not. But it was my responsibility to see clearly, and I failed.” He pressed a kiss to her hair.
“Living near other Cire who also chose to leave—who also questioned the Council’s methods—might help me understand what my people could become.
What we could be, if we stopped clinging to old beliefs that no longer serve us. ”
Melissa was quiet for a moment. Then: “You’re a good man, Becsul.”
“I was a complicit man. Now I am trying to be better.”
“That’s all any of us can do.”
Trevelor announced itself first as a gleaming blue-green crescent against the starfield, then gradually resolved into continents and oceans and cloud formations.
The capital city—Wiang—sprawled along a wide river valley, its architecture a harmonious blend of organic curves and efficient functionality.
“It’s beautiful.” Sarah pressed her face against the viewport, Katie mimicking her mother’s posture. “Look, sweetheart. Look at all the trees.”
The docking procedures were efficient and professional, the port authority officials polite but thorough.
When they finally stepped off the ship and onto Trevelor soil, Becsul drew a deep breath and tasted…
nothing alarming. Clean air, tinged with something floral, warmed by a sun that felt gentler than Ciresia’s.
“Welcome to Trevelor.” A young woman with lavender skin and an official-looking uniform approached them with a professional smile.
“I’m Liaison Kethri. Captain Drex notified us of your arrival.
If you’ll follow me, we have temporary accommodations prepared while you determine your longer-term plans. ”
The accommodations turned out to be a suite of connected rooms in a comfortable residential building near the city center. Actual beds. Private bathing facilities. Windows that looked out over a park where children of various species played under the watchful eyes of their parents.
Katie pressed her nose against the glass. “Mama, can I go play?”
“Soon, baby. Let’s get settled first.”
Becsul stood beside Melissa as she surveyed their new quarters—modest by Ciresian standards, but warm and welcoming in a way that the facility’s cells had never been. Robbie gurgled happily in her arms, reaching for a beam of sunlight that slanted through the window.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I think…” She turned to face him, her dark eyes bright. “I think it feels like possibility.”
The medical facility was called the Wiang Center for Reproductive Sciences, and it occupied a sprawling campus on the eastern edge of the city.
Becsul accompanied Melissa to their appointment with the director, Robbie secured in a carrying sling against his chest. The weight of the infant had become familiar now, comforting in a way he couldn’t quite articulate.
The building’s interior was all clean lines and soft lighting, designed to put visitors at ease.
Various species moved through the corridors—patients, staff, visitors—and Becsul noticed more than a few lingering glances directed their way.
An unusual sight, perhaps: a Cire male carrying a human infant.
Let them look, he thought. Let them see what is possible.
Director L’chong turned out to be a native Trevelorian with a fluffy bird-like body perched on long, thin legs and a brightly feathered crest. He rose from behind his desk as they entered, extending both hands in greeting.